#but anyway i still clocked this. even just listening to this while folding laundry... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grey-sides · 3 years ago

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can't stop, gotta talk

This is for @chrisbitchtree because I saw your tags on the post about a talkative sub and went into a fugue state for 30 minutes and came out with this. Uh, rated M because they don't have sex, but they're definitely in a dom/sub relationship. sub!Billy/dom!Steve, nothing crazy happens, promise, this is mostly fluff.

Steve is still technically working, even though he hasn’t gotten an email in like two hours. His projects are whirring away while he flips a pen in the air and catches it, staring up at the ceiling. He could go do something else, maybe fold the laundry that’s been sitting in the corner of the bedroom for a couple of days. Or he could make himself a cup of coffee, something to unwind with while he waits for the clock to finally hit five. It’s a Friday, it’s really not fair that he has to even think about working right now.

Steve snatches his pen out of the air and smiles to himself when he hears the front door open. There’s Billy, with his heavy boots and his even heavier bookbag. Home from his Friday bio lab, something he complains about constantly, even though he decided to go back for a master's degree, insisting that he had to keep up with Steve and his MBA. Steve wouldn’t even have an MBA if his company didn’t insist, he knows Billy just wants to keep learning.

He swivels in his high back chair when Billy makes it over to the door and glances at the clock on the wall. Four-fifty, close enough. Steve reaches over to save his programs, closing them quickly while Billy wanders into the room. He’s clearly full of energy, trailing his fingers along the desk Steve keeps close to the door for dropping things when he comes back from the office.

“Hey, sugar,” Steve greets when his laptop is closed and his monitors are dark. He gives Billy a small smile and pushes his chair back, spreading his legs. He pats his thigh, looking up as Billy makes his way over. “How was your day?”

Billy shrugs, he lost his boots somewhere on the way here and his socks are looking a little threadbare. Steve will have to get him some more the next time they go out shopping. He pads over and plops into Steve’s lap, winding his hands around Steve’s neck. “Fine, we had to go measure trees again,” he mutters.

“I thought you liked trees?”

Billy shrugs again and his fingers find the thin gold chain Steve wears, toying with the clasp. “They’re fine, I don’t really care about botany though. I wish this lab focused on fungi, they’re way more interesting. The root systems are just something else, the way they talk to each other for miles and miles, whole states could be one big system and we don’t even know it!”

Steve smiles warmly at Billy, sliding his hands down to cup his ass. Of course, fungi, how could Steve forget? It’s why Billy keeps talking about moving out towards Pennsylvania and the mushroom capital of the world. So he can study them up close and personal as if mushrooms don’t grow literally everywhere.

Steve starts to knead Billy’s ass through his jeans, watching him as he talks. He loves this man with his whole heart and he’s so lucky to get to listen to Billy’s tangents. Billy’s been a talker as long as Steve has known him but there’s a big difference between Billy talking and Billy speaking. Everything at the beginning of their relationship was just fluff, this is the stuff that runs through his head day in and out.

“The professor doesn’t even really want us touching the lichen, which is a type of fungus, but I mean, it’s right there! I should be able to at least take a- oh, yeah, baby, do that again,” Billy says, dropping his eyes back down to Steve. “Anyway, a sample. Just to see if the lichen makeup is impacting the trees’ ability to grow or anything.”

Steve laughs a little, sliding his hands down into Billy’s jeans so he can feel him up more. He teases with his fingertips at Billy’s hole through his underwear, watching Billy’s eyelashes flutter when he does it. “Good boy,” Steve praises, hearing Billy falter in his speech. “Why don’t you tell me what you want to do this weekend?”

Billy bites his lip and pushes back into Steve’s hands a little. Steve lets him, it’s been a long week. Billy’s hands trail up to start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing inch after inch of golden skin. He still has two bite marks around his nipples that Steve put there and his eyes flutter shut after a moment when Steve moves one hand to slide inside his underwear.

Billy clears his throat and his voice comes out a little huskier. “I was thinking we could go check out that new coffee shop and maybe hit the record store?” he asks, shucking his shirt off and tossing it to the side. Steve is still wearing all his clothes, Billy hasn’t even managed to unbutton one button on his shirt.

“Yeah? Want me to take you out to dinner?”

Billy nods, licking his hips as he grabs the button on his jeans to pop them open. It relieves a little pressure Steve was feeling on his wrists and he rewards Billy with a searing kiss, swallowing whatever he was going to say.

“Yeah,” Billy breathes when they break apart, pupils blown. “You should take me out for sushi this weekend, I want one of those fancy boats to share with you. The nice place on Main with the sake shots.” He arches his back a little, pressing all along Steve’s front.

“Okay, I think I can do that, you’ve been so well-behaved lately,” Steve promises. He pulls the hand not currently in Billy’s underwear out of his jeans and slaps his ass then soothes it with his palm. “Anything else happen today?”

Billy shakes his head, eyes going a little glazed as he talks. “Not really. I ate lunch in the music center with Robin, we should have her over soon. I gotta pick up more oil to change it on my car- how’s your oil?”

“Probably fine, but you can change it if you want,” Steve hums, reaching up to drag his nails down Billy’s bare back. “So it was a good day?”

Billy nods and he drops his eyes back to Steve’s, his hands come from around Steve’s neck to rest on his chest and grinds down a little in his lap. “Yeah, missed you though.”

“You always miss me,” Steve teases, leaning in for a softer kiss. He’s not really doing anything except feeling Billy up, putting him in a good headspace for the night. Slowly, he pulls his hands away, moving them to rest against Billy’s back gently.

Billy sighs softly and smiles, a little dopey and out of it. “Thanks,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a moment. “Gonna go get changed to work out.”

“I’ll come with.” Steve shifts a little in his seat and Billy climbs down, picking up his discarded shirt. He waits for Steve to stand up and they link fingers, heading for the stairs.

Billy half turns as they walk, now starting to talk about their workout for the evening. Steve just grins and slaps his ass, chasing him the rest of the way up.

#harringrove #chrisbitchtree #greye writes #drabble #stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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pot-of-terv · 3 years ago

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Aaaaa I thought I wouldn’t be able to take part in PuzzleJune after all but! Today! When I had just gotten out of the shower I got an idea and sooner than I realised, I had written over 700 words... which then in turn inspired me to draw. I’m SO HAPPY.

Anyway do not be scared by the tears, they’re good tears I promise!! This is continuation to my ficlet “farewell of a different kind” and I hope you enjoy!

tw: dissociation

PuzzleJune2021, Week One: Time

The days following Atem's wish to stay were a blur. They returned home, all of them, lightheaded with joy and love and relief. Yuugi doesn't know, and he thinks he doesn't even want to know, how Ishizu arranged a passport along with other documents for Atem in order for him to travel back to Japan with them. In order for him to live, to start his second life. Yuugi does suspect that Seto Kaiba had something to do with all that because of how smoothly everything went, yet he can't figure out what kind of strings Ishizu had to pull to gain his cooperation.

Mama Mutou had been surprisingly alright with letting Atem stay in their home and didn't even bat an eye at Yuugi demanding that Atem share his room. She was so alright with all of it that they couldn't help but wonder if she had already known half of the stuff before they even told her. Anyway, Yuugi was and still is infinitely grateful to his mother.

In the present moment, Yuugi finds himself folding laundry in the kitchen - or at least that's what he is supposed to be doing. Instead he suddenly realises that he's just staring at a shirt, hands unmoving, thoughts... silent.

It's his summer uniform shirt. He squeezes the soft fabric just to feel his hands. School seems such a faraway thought at the moment, their holiday still going on, everything having... changed. No longer are the rooms of his heart occupied by a 3000-year-old spirit of a pharaoh, no longer lays the heavy weight of the golden puzzle against his chest.

Although, he thinks sluggishly, he might have lied a bit. Chuckling to himself, oddly breathless, he finishes folding the shirt and turns to lean his elbows on the kitchen counter.

“A bit” doesn't really cut it, he admits. It was an outright lie to say that the spirit didn't occupy his heart - he did, he does, Atem does, oh how he does occupy it. While that presence in the deepest crevices of his heart is no longer true in the literal sense, it doesn't change the fact that Yuugi is completely, utterly, infinitely in love with Atem.

Burying his hands in his hair, head drooping low, he closes his eyes and breathes. He smells coffee grounds, laundry detergent, bread. Hears bird songs and the sound of traffic from an open window. He keeps breathing, listening, grounding himself little by little. His thoughts have been moving like molasses but they're moving, that terrifyingly blank canvas he came to completely gone. He hears the grandfather clock in the living room chime eleven.

Time.

Time had been a precious, finite resource for all those weeks leading up to their trip to Egypt. The clock had ticked inevitably closer, closer and closer to that fateful day they all knew was coming - the ceremonial duel, and ultimately, the leaving of Atem.

Now time is a resource that they have in abundance. Yuugi still doesn't quite feel able to wrap his head around it. Atem stayed, Atem isn't leaving, Atem is here. With him. Still here, like always, but outside of Yuugi's head and in his own actual body. Atem is his own person, whole and shining, able to wear his own clothes, his own makeup, his own smile. He's able to touch and be touched. Hug and be hugged.

It's exhilarating, that thought, it's full of so much happiness Yuugi feels like he's going to burst. And he does burst, he notes, as tears start to burn in the corners of his eyes and soon stream down his cheeks like rivers, uncontrollable and free.

The last time Yuugi had cried was when he thought he would be watching Atem leave his life forever. It had been almost a week since then and Yuugi hadn't been able to cry, not from anything - something stopped him each time he felt close to tears and they dried up even before he could feel the sting of them.

Now, it seems, that blockage is finally gone and Yuugi laughs wetly, wiping his eyes once before realising it's no use. He feels as if it's all the fear and anxiety and relief and joy and love that comes pouring out of his eyes and by doing so lightening the weight in his chest he didn't even know had been there. It feels liberating.

Time.

They finally have time, and they have all of it.

It's a worthy reason to shed tears for and Yuugi lets them come, welcomes them like an old friend, smiling throughout it all.

And even when his tears finally dry, he's still smiling.

#puzzleshipping #puzzlejune #puzzlejune2021 #puzzletime #ygo dm #yugioh #yuugi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #fanart #fanfic

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euphoriyoongi · 3 years ago

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♥︎ So this is Love ♥︎ k.s.j

A Cinderella Story

Requested by: @baby-mochi123

♥︎ Summary:

As an orphan living with your late fathers disgrace of a wife and two step sisters, you’re hidden away from the world. That is, until the King gets inpatient for grandchildren, and invites all maidens to the royal ball.

♥︎ Genre: royalty au, Cinderella-themed, love at first sight, comedy

♥︎ Word count: 5.6k

♥︎ Warnings: none

m.list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time in a far away land, there was tiny kingdom…

Ever since your father died, life has been rough.

You could barely remember the times you used to play in the grass fields with your mother, or the time you ripped the bottom of your dress as you fell.

Those memories were distant. Nearly gone. Your father remarried after your mother died, and the woman he married was more of a devil than anything. She would act all sweet to you when your father was around, but behind closed doors she disgraced and belittled you.

When your father passed away, she became more evil than before, which was hard to imagine. She was already so terrifying, but now it seemed as though she had something against you.

You were fully grown now, able to do everything for yourself. But yet, you were forced to like in a crammed attic of their home, while your two step sisters enjoyed lavish rooms and jewelry. It was unfair, but you made yourself worth living. With all of the chores and the dust and dirt you'd have to clean up every day, you still had your pride.

You lived in solidarity up and away from the vicious people you could never call family, and the only friends you could call your own were the rats that populated the walls.

The terribly loud clock broke you away from your slumber and bells began to ding, signaling it was time to make breakfast. They forced to go serve them as they lay in bed, and all you wanted was to be able to eat what you made. There would only ever be enough for the three of them and their cat—which was fittingly named Lucifer—and never any for you. That was probably why you were so thin.

"Y/n!!" Your stepmother's voice bellowed through the walls continuously, hailing you to begin her breakfast. She always yelled like she was going to starve if you didn't get it to her in time which wasn't true. She was bigger-boned and had plenty of meat on her bones, and always concealed it with a super tight corset that she would claim her real waist.

"Y/n?! Where's breakfast?" Your step sister screeched at you from her bedroom as you walked by. You ignored her and continued to walk to the kitchen. "Hey! Don't ignore me! Mother, Y/N is ignoring me again!"

You continued to walk to the kitchen and once you got there you began to prepare breakfast. You scrambled up the food and poured tea, and then placed it on 3 plates to bring to them.

As you brought them all their breakfast, your stepmother beckoned you to come into her room. Before you entered, your two ugly step sisters blocked the door. "You're gonna get it bad, Y/N."

You brushed them off again and made your way through the double doors or your stepmother's room, the cat following you in.

The cat glided it's way through the dark room and jumped onto the large bed, curling up into the arms of a dark looking figure. She didn't speak.

"Stepmother—"

"Shut it." She hissed as she pet her cat, who was as dark as the room. His eyes were the only visible part of him. "Seems like you have a lot of time on your hands. Let's put it to good use."

You stayed silent and listened to what she had to say. You knew it was going to be chores, and you just wished you could have some alone time to yourself.

"You have full chore duty today. That includes folding the laundry, washing dishes, scrubbing to floors, sewing your step sisters' dresses and oh—don't forget the garden."

You sighed. "Yes Step-mother."

You had no way out of it. It was all you could do to respect your father.

You could've swore you saw the cat smirk. "Oh yes, one more thing. Don't forget to bathe the cat."

Over the hill was the large grandeur of a palace, where the king and his son lived.

The king was getting impatient, wondering when his son would give him grandchildren. He wasn't getting any younger, and wished to see children before he passed.

Kim Seokjin, the only prince of the kingdom, hasn't even had the thought of settling down yet. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but he thought no one could be his match. The prince was away on business, but was coming home tonight.

His father decided to send out invitations to every eligible maiden in the kingdom to a royal ball, hoping at least one of them will catch his eye.

So it wouldn't seem suspicious, he figured he could plan this ball for his return, and have all the women there for him.

Tonight was the night he planned for the ball. He then sent out all the invitations, hoping for the best.

As you were scrubbing the floor, a thin piece of paper slid through the mail slot on the door and landed right at your feet. You picked it up and didn't bother reading it, you weren't the best at reading anyway. You did notice it was from the palace.

Your step family was upstairs as they were practicing their music skills and you walked up the stairs to interrupt.

You knocked softly, but your step mother screamed as you entered. "Y/n! What did I say about interrupting—"

"This just came from the palace!" You excitedly murmured, and held your hand out for your step mother to grab it.

"There's to be a ball...every eligible maiden is to attend!" She cried out and looked to her daughter's who were jumping up and down.

"We're both eligible!!" They screamed simultaneously, happily shaking the floorboards.

Your eyes lit up when you heard what she said. "That means I can go, too!" You said, covering your mouth with your hand in excitement.

One of your step sisters snickered. "Yeah, right! Her dancing with our prince! That's impossible.

"Greetings your highness, would you mind holding my broom." The other sister giggled as she mocked you.

After their laughs ended, you spoke up again. "Well, why not? I am part of the family. And it says by royal command..."

The sisters looked at each other and then at their mom. "Well...I can't see why you couldn't go..." she stared down at the piece of paper. "If you get all your work done and find something suitable to wear.."

"Yes step mother I sure will!" You smiled as you made your way out. "Thank you."

You ran as fast as you could up the steps to plan your outfit, knowing you have your mothers old dress locked away in a chest.

You noticed it was a bit outdated, so you looked through your sewing book to see any changes you could make to it.

Just as you finally thought you reached happiness it faded away just as quickly as it happened. You were beckoned again to start your chores and now you wouldn't have nearly enough time to sew the dress.

As you worked your ass off to clean and get things done, time flew. You thought you didn't have a change at going to the ball now, especially when you heard the carriage reach the chateau. You sighed. As if your day couldn't get any worse. Your step mother opened her door when she heard you walk by. "Y/nN my dear, why aren't you dressed?"

Your two step sisters peaked out of the doorframe, awaiting your answer. "Ah, I'm not going."

They all smirked, but tried to cover it. "That's too bad. Maybe next time." She cooed and shut the door to get her daughters ready.

You made your way back up to your humble living space, and your shoulders were hunched as you walked up the stairs. You really thought you had a chance for yourself this time. You hated being someone's maid, and you wished things would be different. You had hoped this was the chance to break out of your shell and this house and follow your dreams. Dreams of meeting your one and only true love.

As you entered your room you peered out the window, staining at the tree branches that blocked the moonlight. You sighed, deep in thought.

A sudden creek came from your closet, and the door began to open slowly. You nearly screeched when you saw a dozen rats run out of it, but when your eyes landed on the gorgeous dress that was hung up, you glanced at the little rodents.

"How the hell did you do that? Was that some kind of sorcery?" You stared at the dress with wide eyes, trying to figure out how tiny rats were able to stitch and sew. Maybe you were going crazy. "Thank you..I guess." You said sincerely, but still couldn't wrap your mind around it all.

You rushed to get ready and tossed on all your accessories, including a beautiful jade necklace that sat on the corner of your desk. You were unsure about how it got there, but figured it was the rats with superpowers and carried on with your plans.

You rushed down the stairs as you noticed that they were about to open the door to leave. "Wait for me!" You yelled as you ran, hoping they wouldn't give you any trouble. "I'm ready."

"Mother you can't let her go! It's not fair!" The ugliest sister growled as she tossed her hands in the air.

The other sister huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is disgraceful!"

"Now girls...a promise is a promise." Your step mother smirked as she neared you, reaching a hand out to cradle your jade necklace. "Isn't this beautiful, what do you think—"

"No it's ugly—wait! That's my necklace! She stole it!" She hissed reaching out towards it. "Gimme that!" As she grabbed onto it she yanked it, and the necklace broke, sending all the beads to dance across the floor.

You gasped as that happened, and the other sister barely gave you enough time to get a grip when she began to tear your dress from bottom to top. They both aggressively tried to tear it apart, not a care in the world about how you felt about it. It was your mothers dress after all, and now all that's left is the torn fabric that fell from your shoulder.

"Girls, girls. Let's not be too hasty. I don't want you upsetting yourselves." Your stepmother softly spoke, side-eying you as if she didn't see the whole debacle. "Let's go, we'll be late." She said, leaving you all alone in the large empty house, torn to pieces.

You couldn't help but start to cry. You tried your best to be able to go, even trusted rats to fix up your dress. But now your dress was ruined and you were crying, subconsciously finding yourself in the garden under your favorite willow tree.

"It's just no use at all.." you cried out as you laid your head down onto the bench, kneeling. "There's nothing left to believe in anymore."

You let your tears fall, completely oblivious to the bench that somehow turned into the lap of a man. His hand softly stroke your head, listening to you cry.

"Nothing? You don't really mean that, right?" His soothing voice spoke out, and you'd think it would've broke you out of your funk, but it didn't. You still sat there with your head in his lap and cried.

"Yeah, I do mean that—"

"No you don't, or I wouldn't be here." He shrugged and you finally realized something wasn't normal. You sat yourself back and gasped at the boy in front of you. He had dazzling blue hair and eyes to match, with a beautiful pink gown on. He looked very feminine and approachable. Sparkles danced around his figure and he held something that looked like a wand in his right hand.

"Wha—" you rubbed your eyes, trying to understand was was in front of you. First it was artsy rats, now...a fairy?!

He reached around your arms and slowly lifted you up. "Okay, you definitely can't go to the ball looking like...that." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "We have to hurry."

He glanced around, almost as if he was trying to find something. "Now what did I do with that damn wand, I swear I lose it every time.."

Your eyes widened. "Wand? Then you must be—"

"Your fairy godfather—god that's so strange to say. How bout your god-daddy" he shook his head as he covered his mouth. "Wait no that sounds to provocative. Just call me Jimin." He smiled, and then continued to look for his wand.

You glanced at his right hand, which held a long stick-like thing. "Uh...is that it? In your hand?"

"Now who do you take me for? Im not that dumb I—wait, you're right. I guess I am that dumb." He scratched his head in embarrassment and shook it off. "Okay. I say the first thing you need is a pumpkin."

"A..pumpkin?" You questioned, glancing over at the pumpkin patch that was part of the garden.

"Yes. Now what we're the magic words?" He wondered out loud, scratching his chin. "Ah! Bippity boppity boo bitch!"

And just as ridiculous as the magic words were, a grand carriage blossomed from the pumpkin. You were at a loss for words as you glanced from the carriage to Jimin, shaking your head in astonishment. "How'd you do that?"

He smiled. "Magic, I guess." He said not too confidently, looking from you to the little rats around your feet. "Now you need horses."

You looked down and the rats and giggled. You could've sworn you were in a fever dream right now. How was all of this possible?

With the flick of his wrist, Jimin turned the cute little rats into large white horses, standing high and mighty as they were ready to pull the carriage.

You didn't even take notice to an actual horse that stood next to Jimin, patiently waiting to have his turn with magic. "Now you need a coachman.." he muttered and waved his wand at the horse, transforming it into a human man. He sat at the reins of the horses, ready to go.

"Okay what the hell is going on here?" You blinked frantically as you tried to understand what was happening in front of you. How could such a gorgeous man be a fairy, and how could said gorgeous man turn a horse into a person?

Maybe you were high or something.

"Aha. Now, it's your turn." He turned to you with his wand and winked. He looked you up and down and bit his lip, then looked into your eyes. "You're super hot and all, but that dress is a no no."

He waved his wand up to the sky and did a little twirl, and you couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous he looked. But all of a sudden a large wave of sparkles encased your body, spiraling around you with high speed. You looked down in confusion, then when it all stopped, what was left was a beautiful silvery-blue dress that sparkled as much as the stars.

"Woah..." you breathed, spinning around in it. It was absolutely stunning, you didn't even want to question how he did it. He then fixed up your hair and makeup, and last but not least, your shoes.

You had a weird shoe size. It was a bit too small for your body, so most of the time it was hard to find ones that fit. So when Jimin magically put sparkling glass heels onto you, you gasped in disbelief.

They sparkled even more than the dress, but all in all you sparkled more than the night sky. "This is like a dream.." you murmured in awe.

"Okay, I'm done." He chuckled, crossing his hands across his chest. "Just one more thing."

"What is it?" You asked him, on edge to go to the palace.

"This is all a façade, okay? Just like all dreams, it won't last forever." He looked into your eyes. "It won't last after midnight. Everything will go back to how it was before."

You nodded. At least that gave you enough time to try to meet the prince. "Okay. I'll be out of the palace before that."

He nodded, then gasped and it nearly scared you. "Okay, you gotta go or you'll be late."

He shooed you into the carriage and as you sat down, the horses that were once rats took off, leaving Jimin in the dust. When you looked back you noticed his little wave, then all of a sudden he disappeared into thin air, making this whole situation even weirder.

When you approached the castle, you noticed how grand it was. With it standing so tall it looked like it hit the clouds, and the beautiful stones that held it all together. This was a dream in life itself that sadly had to end, but you were going to make the most of it.

Currently inside the palace, the king organized all of the women to be introduced to the prince one by one. But everytime a promising woman would walk up, it was almost as if he would yawn at the sight of them.

The prince stood tall in the great hall, barely giving any women a second glance. He didn't want any of them, and just wanted to find someone himself. His father and the arch duke sat up high on the balcony, looking down on the scene. Seokjin looked up, noticing how aggravated his father looked.

You approached the grand steps to enter the ballroom, the sides lined with guards. You looked over at them when you noticed they were looking at you, and continued your walk up a hundred red-velvet covered stairs.

Your step sisters were currently being introduced, you took notice to that as you walked into the room. The far side wall was open, leaving only the beautiful night sky to be viewed. What you didn't take notice of was that the prince stopped in his tracks and was standing at you wide eyed.

Seokjin couldn't help himself. The two girls that were in front of him were such a bore. When he bowed respectfully to them and straightened up he noticed you, where you were directly in his line of vision with the dark sky surrounding you, making it seem like you were sparkling.

He had to meet you. The way you spun around to music that wasn't even being played or the way he just glanced at you once and could've sworn he fell in love, he knew he had to at least know your name.

He pushed past the two sisters and stepped toward you, determined to make you his bride.

He reached out a hand towards your shoulder. "Hello, miss?" Jin said politely, his dark hair pushed up to reveal his forehead. "How come I don't know who you are?"

His father took notice to his interest, and hurriedly signaled the band to play the waltz.

When the music ran through the room, you didn't even have time to answer him. He was breathtakingly beautiful, almost like a prince. Little did you know that he was one.

"Would you like to dance with me?" He asked you and held onto you hand, raising it to kiss the back of it.

You shivered in delight, knowing you fell for him at first sight. It seemed like he did, too. So much for marrying a prince, you didn't care who this guy was at this moment. "I'd love to."

He held your hand as you both made your way to the center of the ballroom, watching all of the women cry in disbelief.

He slid his hands down to your waist and you held your hands onto his shoulders. You moved in sync, your lips just a few inches away from his. His eyes were stunningly dark and mysterious with hair to match. His lips were plump, almost pillow-like and you wondered how they would feel against yours.

You couldn't get enough of him, you were lost in him. In his touch, in his eyes, in his heart. He was also captivated by you and had no doubt you were the one out of all these women.

"Who is she, mother? I've never seen her before." The step sister asked as she tried to get a good look of you from the crowd.

"We'll Ive never—wait a minute...something is familiar about her." Your stepmother wondered, but before she could get a good look, they moved their way out onto the terrace, now all alone without anyone watching.

After the dance was over he held you in his arms, brushing a stray strand away from your face. He smiled at you when he noticed your blush.

He grabbed your hand, holding onto it tightly as he took you into the garden, both of you in bliss.

You both sat down on the edge of a large fountain, not taking notice to the clock behind it. It was nearing midnight, but you were so lost in his charm that you didn't even pay attention.

He sat next you you closely, and looked from your eyes to your lips. "You're beautiful. I hope you know that." He said to you as he leaned in farther. "So, so beautiful."

His lips grazed yours softly, but before it could turn into a kiss, the clock struck twelve behind you, bellowing a loud noise. You whipped your head around and noticed the time. "Oh my god!"

You stood up abruptly, and his hand that was on your thigh flew up as you stood. "What's wrong?" He wondered with worry, noticing how frantic you were.

"It's midnight!" You cried, holding onto your dress like it was going to disappear.

"Yeah..so.." he trailed off, hoping that this night would go farther.

You shook your head and turned to leave. "I have to go." You said sadly, but his hand grabbed yours before you could run off.

"You can't leave now—"

"I have to!" You said as you looked frantically back and forth, hoping nothing would disappear right now.

"But why?" He asked softly. He didn't want you to leave. He had so much more he wanted to say to you, he didn't even know your name.

You had to make up an excuse. "I—uh...the prince! I haven't met the prince yet!" You said and nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"The..prince?" He asked. Didn't she know it was him? "But didn't you know that I—"

The clock bellowed again, sending you hurriedly looking for the way out. "Goodbye!" You said and bowed, and ran off back into the palace to find your way down those beautiful velvet steps.

"Wait! I don't even know your..." he trailed off as he ran after you. "Name.."

Before he could catch you, all the women blocked his leave and surrounded him, all blabbing something he wasn't paying attention to. All he saw was the beautiful girl he fell in love with run down the stairs, only leaving a glass heel behind.

You ran out of the palace and jumped into your carriage which was thankfully still intact. It rode off and it started to slowly change.

The carriage began to soften like how it was before and transitioned into a large pumpkin, and the horses morphed back into the small rats they once were. Everything was a blur and all of a sudden you fell to the ground with a thud, picking yourself up and scurried with the animals to hide in the forest as the palace guards ran straight, smashing the pumpkin that was once a carriage.

It was quiet now, you stared down at your tattered dress. The cute little rats stood by your feet, trying to get you to notice that you still had one glass slipper. It didn't disappear with the rest of it.

That was all you had left of that night, and you went back home holding it tightly, dreaming about the man you nearly kissed.

The next morning the prince paced back and forth in his room, trying to figure out a way to find her.

Seokjin was never like this. He was always calm and collected, but something ticked in his mind when he met you. He needed to find a way to get you back into his arms. He didn't even get to kiss you.

He held the heel you left behind in his hand and came up with a great idea. He needed to have this heel reach every maiden's household to see if it fit. The problem is, it could fit any number of the girls. He’d just have to wish for the best. His father would never let him out of the palace to do it himself though.

The grand duke was willing. After figuring out the plans, the duke took off to find the girl of the prince's dreams.

“Y/N!” Your stepmother cried out angrily. “Where are you?” She paced up the stairs but stopped as soon as she heard you.

“I’m right here.” She spoke out as you exited one of the rooms downstairs. She always seemed to rush you even if you were doing a great job.

“Where are the girls?” The looked anywhere but you as she asked this, only ever worrying about her own daughters.

You set down the broom you had in your hand and sighed. “They’re still sleeping.”

She rushed up the steps in anxiousness and you wondered what was the matter. You walked into the kitchen and grabbed the tea for them quickly and ran upstairs, only to overhear their conversation.

“What’s wrong, mother?” Both the sisters were in the same room, both tired and yawning up a storm.

“He’ll be here any minute!” She rushed, pulling back the curtains to bring light inside the room.

“Who?” They asked simultaneously with a yawn.

“The grand duke. He’s been hunting all night.” She rooted through her daughter’s wardrobe. “For that girl! The one that lost her slipper at the ball last night. Apparently he’s madly in love with her.”

“The duke?” One of them asked, only to be interrupted loudly.

You walked into the doorway at this moment, looking back and forth at the sisters and your stepmother.

“No, the prince!”

You stopped in your tracks. So that man you met—the man you nearly kissed—was the prince?

You gasped. “The prince?” The glass teapot that was in your hands slipped through your fingers, sending shards all over the floor.

“You clumsy fool! Clean that up!”

You couldn’t even pay attention or acknowledge the fact that you were spoken to. The only thing you did was slowly fall to the floor and clean it it without paying close attention. You couldn’t believe it. You…met the prince?

“Why are you telling us this then? If he’s so in love with that other girl?”

Your stepmother side glanced you and continued to root through the wardrobe. “Because not even the prince knows who she is. The glass slipper is the only clue. So one of you must fit into it.”

You glanced up as you cleaned the mess, listening intently to what was going on. “The grand duke was ordered to try it on every maiden in the kingdom. If the shoe fits, that girl will be the prince’s bride by order of the king!”

“Bride?” You whispered in shock, still unable to wrap this around your head.

As the sisters clashed together in search for clothing you saw yourself out, blissfully dancing to the door to your room.

Your stepmother watched you as you swayed, and she narrowed her eyes. Something was certainly fishy about you, and she didn’t have the time to let you become someone better than her daughters. She sneaked up the stairs and peaked through the door, watching you as you sang lovingly in the mirror.

You coughed of glimpse of her in the corner of your eye and turned around, only to see her slide the key into her pocket and lock the door, slamming it.

“No no no!” You cried out, running to the door. “You can’t leave me in here!” You banged on it with your fists as hard as you can, only to hear her footsteps slowly disappear.

You set your back against the door and slid down to the floor. How were you supposed to meet the prince now? How would he ever find you?

You lost all your hope. When you heard the trumpets sound that the duke was here, your heart dropped to your stomach. You let a few tears fall, upset that no one here would even care enough about you. It spoke a thousand words when your step mother locked the door on you, not caring if you needed anything, or to be happy for you if it was your slipper.

The duke came into the house and glanced down at the two sisters who definitely weren’t the prince’s cup of tea. He still had to do his job anyway. He read out the decree and told the older sister to sit down first to try it on. When the glass slipper seemed like it fit like a glove he stood back in awe, that is, until she lifted her foot up and it was only covering half of it.

Meanwhile, the magic rats were up to something. The smallest one was able to gently slide into your stepmother’s pocket. The others stood by and were able to reach it when the small rat lifted it up. They hurriedly rushed the key up the stairs, but it was a bit heavy for them. This was going to take a while.

The duke sighed and shook his head. “Let’s try the next young lady.”

The next sister tried to forcibly squeeze her way into it. She kept complaining that her foot was just swollen today and kept trying. The duke sat there with a frown, knowing that it wasn’t either of these girls. “Are you sure there isn’t another maiden in this household?” He asked you stepmother, grabbing onto the heel and keeping it safe.

The rats were tired, but were able to reach the top of the steps. Now it was time for you to shine.

“No, there’s no one else here—“

“Your grace! Wait!” You cried and rushed down the grand steps of the chateau. “May I try it on?”

The duke’s eyes widened as he took notice to your appearance and smiled. He signaled his servant forward as you reached the bottom of the stairwell.

Your stepmother rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay attention to her.”

“She’s just y/n! A nobody!”

“Madam.” He stood sternly next to your stepmother. “My orders were every maiden. Now if you would excuse me.”

He motioned you to sit down in the chair and beckoned his servant to bring the glass slipper towards you. As he came closer, your stepmother stuck her foot out, only to come to the servant tripping, which sent the glass slipper flying through the air until it smashed right before your feet.

You weren’t too worried about it—since you had the other slipper—but the duke nearly cried and he tried to piece it together. “No no no, this is terrible!” He cried out. “What could we do?”

You smiled at him and then glanced to your stepmother, who was smirking. You always new she was no good for you. But now you were done. “Perhaps..if it would help?” You slid the other slipper out from behind you. “The other slipper?”

He gasped and grabbed ahold of it excitedly. He reached down to slide it onto your foot, and when it fit, he breathed a sigh of relief. The prince could finally be happy.

Bells chimed and people cried out as you rushed down the stairs of the palace in your grand wedding Dress, holding onto Seokjin’s hand tightly with a smile. This was a dream come true. A fairy tale. Everything worked out for you at the end of it.

Here you were in the back of a carriage taking you both somewhere for alone time, but you couldn’t help but blush as his hands cradled your face. “I’m so glad I found you, y/n.”

You stared lovingly into his eyes, glancing down at his lips slightly. “I’m so glad you wanted to find me, Seokjin.”

He stared at you like no one has ever before. He looked at you with such intent it nearly made you melt. His eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips and once again he leaned it for a kiss, this time actually happening.

His lips softly touched yours, slowly moving into you as his hands cradled your face like you were glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen this kiss, so in love with each other.

All this struggle, and now here you were in each others arms, happily in love and wishing it would never end.

And they lived happily ever after.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #bts jin #kim seokjin #cinderella #bts post #bts one shot #jin x reader #park jimin

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Warm

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: This one’s a little spicy, there’s some implied smut and nudity + kissy kissy (it’s really nothing major tho). Fem!reader (only bc he refers to you as his wife). Hmm, bit of hurt/comfort? Just a bunch of fluffy flirting with dashes of angst and spice (okay maybe a lot of angst)

Author’s Note:

Hello! Here’s the long-ass Kiri fic I’ve been working on! This is actually just loosely based on the request—I really took it and ran I guess 😅. I kept changing my mind with what I wanted to happen until I eventually wound up with this!

Ignore how it’s basically Bath Bomb but with Kirishima

Anyway I hope y’all like it!

-Sugar

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Your consciousness bloomed back into being at the sensation of lips trailing kisses down your shoulders. Daylight pierced into your cracked lids, faintly illuminating your bedroom with the caress of a new sun.

A body pressed up against yours, his broad chest and shoulders wide enough to support the width of your own back. His mouth languidly worked its way over your bare skin; from your back, to your neck, over your shoulder. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, and he was more than willing to spend it all on you.

You hummed and shifted, signaling your newly awakened state. A thick forearm you weren’t previously aware of tightened its grip around your waist, his palm gliding over your stomach and up to your chest. It moved up and down, before finally stopping to give you a gentle squeeze.

“Morning, Eijirou,” you said, a laugh already in your sleep-worn voice.

“Hey, Princess.” His chin slotted in the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his cheek pressing against yours. “Sleep well?” His own voice was so low and quiet and deep in the mornings, making your nerves fire in an odd excitement within you.

“Of course I did,” you smirked, ignoring the stirring in your chest. “I’ve got you.”

He chuckled, and finally a small shiver shot through your body at the sound. “Glad the feeling’s mutual.”

You ducked out from under his chin, turning to your other side in order to face him. His chest pressed against yours as you hugged him back, and you couldn’t help but notice how warm it was under the covers like this. Finally you met his eyes, (E/C) meeting glittering vermillion in the morning sun for a long moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “I swear, I married an angel.”

Your heart sped from its steady beat, heat climbing the back of your neck. “Eiji!” you mumbled, flustered, hiding your face between his pecs.

He chuckled again, and at this point, you swore he was doing it on purpose. “It’s true. Gorgeous, perfect—what more could I have asked for?”

You smiled against his skin, and you felt his warm hand gently begin to stroke up and down your back. You cuddled in silence for a minute, growing lost in the touch of the other.

“This is nice,” he sighed, drawing you impossibly closer. “I finally get to spend my whole day with you.”

You lifted your head again to look into his face, smirking. “Is your plan to spend it all in bed?”

He shrugged. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Think about it—here, finally alone with me, all warm and snuggly? No stress, no responsibilities, just . . . me. And you. It’s been too long since we’ve had something like that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, perhaps too readily. Eijirou’s face fell. “Hey,” you crooned, taking his cheek in your palm. “I understand you’re busy. You’re out there being the best hero ever. Do you know how proud I am of you? My Red Riot, saving the day out there. It’s worth the wait.”

His ruby eyes glimmered as they affectionately bored into yours, leaning into your touch. “I still feel bad I can’t be here for you like this every day.”

“But then it wouldn’t be as special.” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone, finally pulling him into a kiss. It started out soft, but Eijirou was quick to escalate the gesture. He devoured your lips enthusiastically, just like he always did, licking and nibbling at the skin.

Warm, you couldn’t help but think, as your heart pounded and blood rushed towards your face. Warm as his fingers laced with yours on his cheek, warm as your skin touched without a centimeter separating you.

Kisses with Eijirou were addictive, and once you started, you could scarcely bring yourself to stop. With every push and pull of your lips, it was as if pure joy had flooded your veins. Even after all these years of being together, you basked in the truth that he could still make you feel this way.

His lips pecked the corner of your mouth, then moved down, down to your jaw, then your neck.

“Eiji,” you breathed, a smile tugging your lips up.

He met your eyes again, removing his tongue and teeth just enough to innocently question, “What?”

“I—weren’t we—it really is—” you began, but your brain was already distracted, focusing on the way he sucked and nipped at your skin, moving ever lower.

“Are you actually going to stop me?” he asked, kissing your collarbone.

You gulped. “No.”

It was a few more hours until you got out of bed.

…

“Eiji.”

You spoke his name and tapped him on one shoulder blade, muscled and kissed by the sun. He grumbled, asleep once more, nuzzling closer into your bosom.

“Eijirou, it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your bedside alarm clock and shaking him again.

“So?” he mumbled against your skin.

“So I’m hungry,” you pretended to whine. “Let’s make breakfast. Or lunch. Brunch, yeah.”

He sighed, dramatic, hugging you tight. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“I’ll make us pancakes,” you offered, threading your hands through his soft red hair.

He didn’t move.

“—with extra bacon and sausage,” you added.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours as his chin settled on your chest. “Okay, I’m listening.”

You chuckled, ruffling his bangs and poking at his nose. “Come on, you have to get off of me. We can cuddle again later.”

Eijirou finally straightened, letting you slide out from under him. You both stretched and moved towards your dresser; Kirishima choosing a pair of gray sweatpants while you opted for one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts.

Eijirou trailed after you to the kitchen, leaning against the counter while you rummaged through the fridge for a few ingredients. Within minutes, you had the batter mixed, and you poured it into the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. Your husband watched with interest from behind, chin perched on your shoulder and arms resting around your waist.

“That one looks nice,” he’d comment every now and then. “Good job, babe.”

His hands stayed ever-present on your body, mostly resting on your shoulders or hips as you finished making breakfast. You ate with him, making light conversation as you plowed through the stack of pancakes and meat.

When you were done, you spent some time catching up around the house. Eijirou helped you wash the dishes and fold and put away the laundry. He insisted on doing it all by your side, happy to chat while you shared effort on the chores.

“How do you keep up with all this?” he asked, setting one of his t-shirts on the bed, freshly folded. “With your job and everything, it’s amazing that you still do so much.”

You shrugged. “I manage. It’s not so bad. And don’t completely discredit yourself, you still help when you can.”

“Well, of course I do,” he said, carrying a pile of clothes to the dresser. “You shouldn’t have to take care of everything by yourself.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “but you have other things to do that’s more important than dusting behind the TV.”

He came back to your side again, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you in so he could kiss your temple. “I’m just thankful you’re here to keep up with the house.”

“And I’m thankful you’re here to spend time with me today.” You popped up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, taking the now-empty laundry basket back to the laundry room.

“Would you like to watch a movie together?” you asked when you were back in the doorway. “The evening is young. We can make a snack and go back to cuddling on the couch. How does that sound, huh?” You grinned and wiggled your eyebrows, trying to sound convincing.

“Sounds perfect to me, babe,” Eijirou said, striding up to where you leaned against the doorframe. “But I think the only snack here is you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ei-JI—AAA!”

He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, grinning his shark-toothed smile as you laughed.

“I meant popcorn!” you said, pretending to struggle.

Kirishima landed a gentle smack to your behind and made a little pop noise with his mouth.

“Ugh,” you said, going limp.

“Shall we continue to the living room, my lady?” he asked.

“Fine. But I don’t think ladies are supposed to be carried like a sack of potatoes.”

He chuckled, already making his way down the hall. “You’re the finest sack of potatoes I’ve ever seen.”

“Hey!” You landed the softest of punches against his back, still lighthearted in the situation.

He set you down once you were back in the kitchen, going to the pantry to grab a bag of popcorn. You sat on the counter to watch him put it in the microwave.

“I’m always scared I’m going to burn these,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly as he tried to decide on a time to put in.

“I do it for a minute and fifty seconds,” you said, childishly swinging your legs.

He inputted the time as you said, the microwave humming to life as the turntable began to spin. Eijirou turned to you again, moving so he was between your legs. “Now, about my snack.”

You snorted, giggling until he cupped your cheek in his hand. He slotted his lips against yours, pulling your body flush into his. Your hands wandered over his bare skin, tracing the blade of his shoulder before gliding up into his hair. You let your fingers lace through the vibrant red strands, anchoring yourself and pulling him in further. Your legs even went as far as wrapping themselves around his waist, your feet meeting at the small of his back.

Eijirou hummed into your mouth, happy to savor you, glad he was there to hold you. The microwave beeped that it was done and you felt his attention shift momentarily, but soon he was back to cherishing you, getting lost in your taste and your touch. How could he care about anything other than you right now? You were his everything, his world, his reason to be. He kissed you harder, not caring that he was running out of breath. He just wanted more of you, wishing he never had to stop. His hand traced over your thigh, longing for you to somehow be even closer.

The microwave beeped again, impatient that it hadn’t been opened.

“Are you going to get that?” you asked, pulling back.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, but he still insisted on giving you a few more chaste pecks before he moved.

You released him and hopped down, wandering into the living room with your husband right behind you, newly equipped with a steaming bag of popcorn.

“What should we watch?” you mused. “Ooh, how about Star Wars? It’s been a while and I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Okay,” he said, settling next to you on the couch. It was a good idea. You were right about him liking it, but he’d also seen it enough times that he could place all his focus on you. There was no way he was going to let your little make out session go interrupted like that.

“Why don’t you go turn out the light?” you asked, already turning on the TV.

Eijirou stood, walking up to the switch on the wall. It was then that he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. He flicked the lights off as he fished out the device. He figured it was junk, but then he saw it was his work contact. His heart began to sink.

“Who’s that?” you asked, apprehensive when you saw the expression that had already come onto his face.

“The agency,” he said, voice low and small.

He wanted to think they were just calling because he’d left something in his office. Or maybe it was a mistake and they hadn’t meant to call him at all. But they wouldn’t contact him on his day off like this if it wasn’t an emergency. Kirishima wasn’t so naïve that he’d think otherwise.

What if he just didn’t answer? What if he ignored it and went back to you? You were the one he wanted to spend time with. This was his evening off—your evening to be together.

But he had a job. He had a responsibility. An innocent person’s life could be at risk. What kind of person—what man, what hero—would he be if he selfishly ignored it? His passion demanded sacrifice, and that was just something he had to live with. He only wished that you weren’t the one who always had to get hurt.

He never knew his thumb to feel so heavy as he pressed receive.

You watched him put the phone to his ear, watched his face fall further as it seemed your collective suspicions were confirmed. He shot you an apologetic glance before he briskly strode off in the direction of your bedroom, still listening to what his secretary was saying on the other end.

You looked back to the TV, the ‘st’ still present in the search field from when you’d typed it in only moments before. Sighing, you turned off the screen, sitting back into the couch.

Maybe he wouldn’t be gone long, you thought, chewing on your lip. Maybe you’d still have time to be together when he got home.

But you knew that it was little more than a lie to yourself. You knew he never came back soon.

The front door slammed shut somewhere else in the house, and you were alone again. You lifted your left hand, examining the glittering rubied ring that rested on your finger. The ring that claimed you as his. The ring that had made you a Kirishima.

You twisted it absentmindedly, appreciating the sensation of friction against your skin. You’d known what you were getting into when you’d accepted the ring. You’d known as soon as he’d gotten down on one knee nearly two years ago. Being wed to a hero wouldn’t be easy. Not only were you in danger just being involved with him, you were also going to be alone a lot.

And even still, you’d accepted. You always cherished every moment you were able to have with him. Every cheesy, teasing joke, every kiss, every time he’d come home to you exhausted and tired and dirty—you still loved it. Because you couldn’t even imagine spending your life with another. Maybe in some other reality, you’d find someone who loved you as much, but here, you wanted Eijirou. No matter what it took, you’d be the one waiting for him to come home. It was your shoulder he’d cry on, your chest he’d fall asleep in, your lips that were there for him to claim. And nothing would change that.

You knew how guilty Kirishima felt about leaving you. He didn’t like that he’d essentially forced you into being his housewife, even though you still had a day job of your own and didn’t really mind.

Being a hero is what he wanted to do his whole life. You saw how passionate he was about his job, all the wide, toothy smiles he’d display to the live TV cameras when he’d win another battle. His job was something he loved, and you wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of it. It wasn’t perfect, nor was heroing as glamorous as some made it out to be. But this was his dream, and you would continue to be his number one fan no matter the circumstances. If only it didn’t have to take him away so much . . . .

You munched on a handful of cooling popcorn—not burnt—wondering what you should do with the rest of your night off. You certainly couldn’t spend it sitting by yourself in the dark.

You stood, stretching. This was nothing new for you, you could be independent. But a part of you couldn’t help but selfishly wish it didn’t have to be this way.

…

Kirishima fumbled to put the key in the lock on your door. He’d done his work for the day, he’d won. But had he really?

God only knew what time it was. The house was dark when he opened the door, stepping in and taking off his boots. He knew the drill by now, setting his duffel bag down to rest in the genkan before trudging through the shadowy rooms of his home. Could he even call it his home? Sometimes he wondered if he was still able to say he lived here.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Eijirou peeked in to see your shadowy form asleep, alone on the large mattress in the masses of blankets. He sighed and toed his way into the guest bathroom where he knew he was less likely to disturb you, cringing when he flicked on the bright light.

He caught a look at himself in the mirror as he stripped off the hoodie he wore to and from work. His hair was a tangled mess, sweat and grime still smeared on his skin. The shower sputtered to life, the din of water droplets hitting tile filling his ears. It was almost comforting; letting his thoughts drown to a low, unpleasant hum beneath the sound.

Water rolled over his skin, washing away what should have been his victory. No one’s life had really been in danger today, but he’d still stopped a villain from potentially destroying someone’s business. Why wasn’t he as happy as he should be?

Kirishima wearily went through the motions of taking a shower. He just wanted to fall into your arms and sleep, but first, maybe he should apologize for ruining your evening together. Had he even said goodbye to you as he rushed out the door?

At least he smelled considerably better when he stepped into the bedroom, changed only into a pair of loose basketball shorts. He walked up to your slumbering form, wondering if you’d wake up if he were to try and take you in his arms.

Eijirou already felt like he was in heaven as soon as he felt the soft mattress under his body. He practically melted under the already warmed blankets, the lids of his eyes suddenly feeling like lead weights when his head met his pillow. His arm draped over your side out of habit, pulling you closer into his chest before he even realized what he was doing. You began to stir, and Kirishima frowned. He hadn’t really wanted to wake you.

“Eiji?” you mumbled, still half asleep.

“It’s me,” he whispered in your ear. “I’m home now.”

You ran your hand over your face. “Did you eat? What time is it?”

“Shh, go back to sleep, honey, don’t worry about me.” Eijirou placed a soft kiss on the skin of your neck, rubbing circles on your midsection in an effort to soothe you back to rest.

“But I do worry about you,” you protested, voice still hushed. “I’m your wife.”

He sighed in defeat. “Alright, I haven’t eaten anything,” he confessed, “but I’ll make sure to get breakfast in the morning. I’m too tired right now, I just need to hold you and sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already moving to stand. “It’s not good for you to not eat like this. I’ll get up and reheat something for you—”

“I’m fine. Really, please.” He held you down and nuzzled into your neck, not caring about the way your hair tickled his nose with every breath.

You took his hand, lacing his thick fingers with your own. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “They just needed some emergency backup. I’m sorry I ruined movie night.”

“Oh, honey, it isn’t your fault.”

Eijirou sighed again. “I know.”

“I’m not upset with you.”

“You never are,” he mumbled, and there was a strange bitterness to it that made you frown.

“Well, it’s a part of your job—”

“Why can’t you just be angry with me?” he interjected. “Why don’t you hate me for having a job that always takes me away from you?”

You froze at his outburst, shocked. “Eijirou—?”

“I—I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, instantly regretting the way he’d spoken to you. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, baby.” You turned onto your back, shuffling so Kirishima could lay his head on your chest. “There’s something going on. Please talk to me.”

He nuzzled closer into you again, holding you in his arms as your fingers began to twirl around his hair. “I just wish I didn’t have to leave you so much,” he admitted softly. “I want to be here for you.”

“But you love your job, right?”

“Of course I do.” He looked up at you so his chin rested in the valley of your chest. “But I love you more. And I feel like I don’t show that to you enough.”

You brushed his bangs out of his face, your hand moving down so your thumb could stroke his cheek. “Eiji, I know you love me.”

“Yeah . . . ,” he trailed off. “But I want to show you. Every day, like I did when we were younger. I don’t feel like it’s manly for me to leave you here by yourself all these nights, and come home late, and not be around. You deserve better than that. I want to contribute more. I want to be here for you. What if—what if something happened to you and I couldn’t protect you?” His voice seemed to break at the thought, his arms wrapped around you squeezing you even tighter.

You hummed, taking in his laments, fingers still carding through his long red hair. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now,” you murmured, hoping to soothe him with your actions, “but you should know by now that I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

He nodded against your hand, but his shadowed face still looked glum.

“And yes, I miss you and I wish we had more time for each other, but I’m sure that someday it’ll change. Your job is tough right now, Ei, but this is your dream. Every day, you’re doing amazing things and I couldn’t be more proud of you. This is what you want to do in life, right?”

He nodded again. “Of course.”

“Then I’m going to support you. If this is what comes with being a hero, then we’ll just have to . . . adapt. Take things as they come, you know? You’ve got a lot on your plate and I want to help you. I know you doubt yourself sometimes and it only gets worse when you’re tired like this.”

“Mhm,” he agreed, voice a little airy and distant. He took your hand in his and began to press slow kisses to your palms and knuckles. You could see the shine of his eyes becoming more obscured by the droop of his lids.

“Maybe you can try to get a week off next time?” you suggested. “And maybe tell Bakugou to hire better back up so you won’t have to get called in like that.”

“A whole week with you,” he mused, sighing. “I’d get spoiled at that rate.”

You bent forward to kiss his forehead, smirking. “It’s nothing you don’t deserve. Either way, we’ll talk about this later, sleepyhead. You still have to go in tomorrow. Maybe it was a good thing we slept in today.”

He chuckled, turning the both of you on your sides and sliding up so he could have better access to kiss all over your face. You couldn’t help but smile at his gentle, languid movements; still determined to display his love for you even half-asleep.

“This is my favorite part of the day,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your cheek. “Coming home to you. I just feel so . . . comfortable around you.”

“You should,” you said, poking the tip of his nose. “I’m your wife.”

“Yeah. But you’re also like, warm and stuff.”

Was he even still conscious at this point?

“Goodnight, Red.”

“Goodnight, my little lovebug.”

And so you began to drift off with him. You had to admit, it had been cold and lonely sleeping without him. But now his presence overwhelmed you in all the right ways, from his fresh-out-of-the-shower scent to the feeling of his arms caging you in against his chest. You felt comfortable, yes, but also warm.

So warm.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicaegyo @hyunmin-1404 @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @sxngwoos-ash-box @xoxopam4

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #eijirou kirishima bnha #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled!#sugar fics

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maladaptive---daydreamer · 4 years ago

Text

No more secrets

(This is set in 6th year, no voldemort being back business)

Sunlight filtered through the dormitory windows onto your sleeping form. You had asked your older brother to teach you a charm to bewitch your windows to reflect the weather outside, growing tired for the green murk courtesy of the black lake. You fluttered your eyes, blinking the sleep from them and rolled over to check the small clock at your bedside. Despite it being the weekend your body still woke you up at 7 am like clockwork, causing you to groan in frustration and smack your bedsheets

“Some of us are trying to fall back to sleep, you know” Daphne grumbled from her bed, beside you.

“Seize the day miss Greengrass” you replied, deciding you might as well get out of bed and follow your own advice.

You kicked your sheets off and made your bed before gathering your things and heading to the prefects bathroom for a shower. You returned to the dormitory with clean hair that smelt of your apple shampoo dressed in some comfy muggle clothes you purchased. Despite their shortcomings, muggles really knew how to dress comfortably. You had stumbled across Piccadilly Circus while trying to get to Diagon Alley during the Christmas break in your fourth year while on your own. In one of the shops you had seen joggers folded on a display and just had to purchase them, they were warm and soft, perfect for cold days.

“My, my what would your pure blood ancestors say if they saw you dressed like a muggle” Daphne teased from her bed.

“Someone has to be the family disappointment don’t they” You replied, putting your clothes in the laundry basket.

“I highly doubt you’re the family disappointment, Y/N, you’re top of the class in basically everything, you’re the first prefect in your family too!” Lily said. She was easily the most positive witch in Slytherin house and hated to see you bring yourself down like that

“Well, Granger is all those things and she’s a mudblood, our parents don’t care about academics as much as you’d think they do” Pansy interjected

“Pansy, no one asked you. As I recall this was a conversation between Daphne, Lily and myself” you snapped, knowing she was attempting to remind Lily of her half-blood status.

Pansy scoffed and rolled her eyes, over the last few weeks she had really been struggling to hide her dislike for you. It didn’t bother you, Pansy was a bitch to put it quite plainly. You wondered how someone could be so venomous and be content with their life.

You began to gather your things to head to the library after breakfast. 6th year meant you and your classmates were inundated with homework from all your classes. You hoped you could get ahead of your work so you could keep Sunday free.

“It’s literally Saturday, why are you voluntarily doing work?” Daphne asked, her head barely visible from under her duvet cocoon.

“If I didn’t, who would you run to at 11pm on Sunday evening because you forgot to write your charms essay?”

“You are a true friend Y/N Y/L/N”

“Hey, Y/N,” Pansy hollered

You looked at Pansy and waited for her to speak

“If you see Draco at breakfast, you mind telling him I’ll be a bit late?”

“I don’t think he’ll care Pans” Daphne replied for you

“Oh but he will, we’re going to the library to do out potions work together”

You were about to frown but stopped yourself, Draco had promised you that the two of you would write your 3 feet of parchment together. Lily caught your eye knowing how you felt about the platinum blond.

“Sure thing Parkinson” You said, with a sickly sweet smile.

You turned on your heel and went down the stairs into the Slytherin common room, despite it being only 8.30 on a Saturday morning, the common room was densely populated with slytherin students of all ages. A small group of second years were sitting on the floor playing gobstones in your path. They looked up and paled, scrambling to move out of your way.

“Scaring second years now are we Y/L/N” The voice of your friend Blaise Zabini asked.

“Me? Of course not, Zabini, I’ll leave that to you and your friends” you replied waking out of the portrait hole

“It hurts me that you think so lowly of us” He feigned hurt as he began to walk alongside you

“I apologise for hurting your feelings”

“What would your father have to say, hearing you apologise to a half blood”

“Here’s me thinking you knew me better, you already know I don’t care for the purity of blood”

“Where are you headed to after breakfast”

“The library, I’ve got a ton of homework to do”

“Have you heard about the party the 7th years are planning?”

“Nope, not that I’m interested anyway”

“This is coming from the girl who managed to get half the quidditch team drunk off fire whiskey the last time we had a party”

“What can I say, academia looks better on me”

“I can’t say I disagree with that. You should still come, bring your friends along too, it’s been a while since we all got together.”

“I’ll see if Daphne and Lily want to come along.”

The two of you had reached the door of the Great Hall

“There you are Zabini, we’ve been waiting for ages” Draco yelled from across the room

You and Blaise walked to your normal spot on the Slytherin table. He took a seat and you stood behind the bench.

“By the way, Malfoy, Parkinson said she’ll be late. Have to do the potions essay you promised you’d do with me a bit later”

“Y/N I-”

You rolled your eyes and opted to grab some sliced of toast wrapped in some tissue and go straight to the library rather than listen to whatever excuse Draco had planned to spew out.

You settled yourself near the fireplace pulling your textbooks out and laying them around you. You managed to write your charms essay, aswell as your Defence Against the Dark Arts essay and some reading for Transfiguration. You looked up at the big clock in the library and noticed it was past two, your stomach rumbled, clearly upset at the measly breakfast of 2 slices of buttered toast and some water. You gathered all your books again and stuffed them back into your bag and headed to the kitchens. The house elves were well aware of what you preferred to eat for lunch and handed it to you wrapped in a gingham handkerchief, you settled yourself by the window eating your lunch enjoying the view over the grounds.

“Y/N”

You looked up to see the face of your academic rival.

“Hermione”

“Do you mind if I take a seat?”

You shook your head and she sat down next to you.

“I was wondering if you could help me”

“Wow the great Hermione Granger needs help? From me?”

“I- nevermind it was silly of me” She got up feeling flustered and began to walk away

“Lighten up, Granger, it was a joke”

“What would you do if you liked someone, but they had a girlfriend and probably don’t like you back?”

“You’ve finally admitted you like Weasley huh” You patted the window sill next to you, prompting her to sit down

“What? No! Ron-“

“You do know Lavender has been slipping him love potions right?”

“But that’s against the rules! She could get expelled for that”

“She doesn’t care Hermione, if I were you I’d slip a bezoar down Weasley’s throat and see what happens after that”

“How do you know? That she’s been making him drink love potions?”

“I saw her buying some in hogsmeade”

“Well thank you for your help”

“Can I ask why you thought I’d be the best person to come to for this advice?”

“Well to be quite frank, I don’t know myself. All my other friends are Ron’s friends too, I didn’t want them telling him anything. And we’ll you’ve been the kindest to me, and I would like to think despite everything you respect me. So thank you for your help” With that she got up and began to walk away

“Hey by the way, Granger, he’d be an idiot to turn you down”

Hermione flashed you a true genuine smile before returning to the Gryffindor common room.

You finished the remnants of your lunch and headed back to the dormitory. Daphne and Lily hadn’t left their spots on their beds.

“Who’s up for a party tonight?” You asked the both of them, a wide grin across your face.

After some further information from some 7th year girls, you, Daphne and Lily found yourselves standing outside the room of requirement at 9pm. Despite being a small, debaucherous get-together, in true Slytherin fashion the three of you were still impeccably dressed. You wore a thin silver satin blouse with a plunging neckline, a blouse he bought for you over the summer, along with some fitted black paper bag trousers and a pair of Chanel flats.

The door opened to reveal a room that looked exactly like the Slytherin common room only the table in front of the fire was covered in alcohol and snacks. Blaise, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were sat in a small group off to the side. Draco’s head snapped up when he heard the door open and he looked as though his breath catched in his throat. You knew he was trying not to stare but it was like he couldn’t move his eyes off you. You’d be lying if you said this wasn’t the effect you wanted to have. Daphne ran off to a 6th year boy that she had been flirting with and you and Lily headed over to your friends.

“You made it!” Blaise exaclaimed getting up to hug you.

You saw dracos knuckles whiten even more as he gripped his butterbeer. You hugged Blaise back, after all, it was Draco who wanted to keep the two of you a secret. Blaise hugged Lily too and the two of you sat down. You made a point to sit directly opposite Draco, forcing Blaise to sit on the arm of the sofa with his arm resting on its back. A butterbeer had been forced into your hand which you sipped every once in a while whilst making conversation with your friends. You had noticed Pansy almost sticking to Draco’s side. She’d laugh overly loud at any small thing he said, even if it wasn’t funny, and failed to get Draco to dance with her numerous times.

After a while the 7th years announced the commencement of a drinking game. They placed an empty bottle on the floor and spun it, if it landed on you, you had to choose a truth or a dare, if you didnt want to do the option you selected, youd have to take a double shot of firewhiskey. You chose to sit it out, standing on the outside of the circle only a few steps away from Draco, who coincidentally also decided to sit out.

“I like the blouse” He commented, taking a swig of his butterbeer

“Thank you, it was a gift” You replied, folding your arms together to accentuate your cleavage.

“Would have preferred you wearing it with just the two of us. Goyle won’t stop staring at you.”

“Well if you offered to take me to a nicer place than a broom cupboard or the empty classroom on the fourth floor, then maybe I’d wear it”

“I was told you were talking to Granger today”

“And? Am I not allowed to speak to people?”

“Not that filthy mudblood”

“Does it really hurt your feelings that bad that she’s smarter than you despite being muggle born that the ONLY thing you can comment on is her blood status?”

“I don’t want you to be seen talking to her again”

“Newsflash, you can’t tell me what to do. I’m not Parkinson, I won’t obey you like some lost dog.” And with that you moved further away from him leaning on a column in the corner of the room.

So far people had only chosen to spill truths, some choosing to take shots instead of their truths. Daphne and her little boyfriend had been dared to enjoy 7 minutes in heaven, made possible by a random broom cupboard supplied by the room of requirement, it had been more than seven minutes and you were sure you’d get a detailed play by play back in the dorms. The empty bottle of fire whiskey landed on Charlie, he joined hogwarts in 5th year after being in America for the last few years.

“Truth or dare Charles?” Blaise asked, rubbing his hands together

“Truth”

“Who do you think is the most beautiful girl in this room?”

“Oh that’s easy, Y/N”

The whole group turned to look at you. You could see from the corner of your eye that Draco had tensed up. He himself slowly turned his head to look at you

“I have to admit, Charlie, you have great taste. You’ll go far in this world” You said, smiling.

“I’ll go as far as you want me to”

This caused the whole group to laugh and return to their game. You checked the clock and saw that it was getting close to 1am. You tapped Lily’s shoulder and she got up.

“Leaving already girls?” Blaise asked from his spot infront of the fire

“It’s getting late, parties aren’t Y/N’s scene anymore anyway” Lily replied smoothing out her skirt

“I’ll walk you back to the dormitory, I’m rather bored here myself” Draco offered, finally getting free of Pansy

“No need, Lily and I are big girls, we can get ourselves back without Filch finding us.” You replied cooly

“I insist”

“No no, Draco. Stay, enjoy the festivities”

You and Lily snuck out of the room of requirement and returned to the dorms undetected.

“What was going on with you and Draco?” She asked while the two of you were getting ready for bed

“Nothing”

“It sounded like the two of you were having a tense conversation”

“You know how Draco can be, always trying to one up everyone”

“Did you hear about Pansy and Draco?” She asked once she was comfy in her bed.

“No” you put your hair brush back in the drawer and got under your own covers

“I heard from Marietta in the year above that Parkinson was bragging about how her and Draco went on a date today. Apparently he took her to the black lake for a picnic”

“Well good for them, I hope they’re happy”

“I know you like him but maybe now she’ll stop being such a raging bitch”

“Maybe, goodnight Lily”

“Goodnight Y/N”

You weren’t crazy, you knew Draco wasn’t stupid enough to even attempt to cheat on you. Your family was just as affluent and your father was just as influential as Lucius for him to know that a cheating scandal between two of the oldest pure blood lines would not turn out well for him. Yet it did nothing to stop the anger bubbling up inside you.

You and Draco began to get closer during your 5th year. You two studied together often and you both were prefects, made to patrol the corridors at night. It was inevitable for the two of you to strike up a bond. You didnt expect your bond to become so strong that an owl would end up dropping a letter on your bed one rainy summer afternoon, with a letter from Draco enclosed about how bored he was over the holiday. The two of you sent letters back and forth, he even floo’d into your bedroom when your parents were out. On the first hogsmeade trip of the year, he asked you to join him and he asked you to be his girlfriend. However, he wanted to keep your relationship a secret. He knew that people would talk and both of your parents would find out, it would lead to talks for the future, something he was not ready for. You saw where he was coming from and agreed, you just didn’t think it would end up like this. In the beginning he tried, he really did, he’d leave cute notes in your bag, he’d hold your hand under the table, save you a seat at dinner, even sneak you into his dormitory, but a few weeks ago, it all suddenly seemed to stop. But you were sick of it. You deserved to be treated better than you were being treated right now.

You awoke on Sunday feeling slightly less angry than you did when you went to sleep. Sunday’s were the day you and Draco would lock yourselves in an old empty classroom on the fourth floor and finally get to be yourselves. You went down to breakfast and sat in your usual seat, waiting for him to make his way down. You were half way through a bowl of cereal when you noticed him walk in with his boys, and Pansy. You dropped your spoon into your bowl causing milk to splash everywhere

“Merlin’s beard Y/N!” Daphne yelled, scooching to the side

You and Lily grabbed some napkins to clean up the small spillage.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite” You deadpanned

You got up and walked past draco, purposely bumping his shoulder on your way out. It hurt you more than it hurt him but you still had a point to make.

“Jeez Y/L/N, watch where youre-” Pansy Scoffed

“Oh fuck off pansy”

“Y/N!”

You ignored him and carried on walking out of the hall. You heard his footsteps behind you and he managed to catch up to you, grabbing you by the wrist.

“What is the matter with you?” He demanded

“Me? What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothings wrong with me you’re the one acting crazy”

“Firstly, I don’t like your tone. If you’re going to shout at me I refuse to listen to another word.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand what the issue is”

“My issue is YOU”

You ended up raising your voice to a volume too loud for Draco’s liking and he pulled you into a nearby storage cupboard.

“This is my problem draco, being forced to hide everything. Arguing in a fucking broom cupboard for fucks sake.” You sighed

“Y/N, you know how-“

“No, I am tired, Draco, sick and tired of hiding, of keeping secrets, of not being able to come and collapse next to you when I’m upset”

“You can still do that,”

“No I can’t, you always surrounded by one of your posse members. If it’s not Crabbe or Goyle then it’s fucking Parkinson. Did you know she’s going round telling everyone you took her to the black lake for a picnic?”

“She said what? I didn’t even see her yesterday, Blaise and I went to the quidditch pitch after breakfast.” He had a face of visible disgust on his face at the thought of people thinking him and Pansy were a thing.

“Well yeah now the whole school thinks you’re going out with Parkinson and you’re not going to say anything to stop those rumours”

“You know why, princess”

“Yeah you don’t want to think about the future. But if thinking about a future with me really scares you so much Draco, why are you still with me? Surely if you just kept yourself single, you’d have no future to worry about and no girlfriend breathing down your neck”

“You know that’s not what I mean”

“Then what do you mean? Because -” you cut him off, you were starting to get annoyed and he could sense it

“If you stopped interrupting me, I’d be able to explain my thoughts” He said calmly, placing both his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him in the eye.

“Speak then”

“Yes I don’t want to think about my future. I don’t want to think about what ministry career I’ll be forced into to keep up my family’s reputation, who I’ll be forced to call my friend for the sake of appearances, what I need to name my first born child. I don’t want to think about all the skeletons in the Malfoy family wardrobe that I’ve yet to discover. This, me and you, it’s so innocent, so pure. You get me, you see me for more than my family name. And I want to protect this. I don’t want our parents getting involved and tainting what we have.”

“It’s the only way we-”

“Interrupt me once more and I’ll hex you.”

You closed your mouth and decided to listen for just a short while more.

“However, if the key to your happiness, and the future of our relationship, is for everyone, including our parents, to find out about us. Then I will walk straight into that hall and stand on the table and announce it to the whole school.”

“You really mean that?”

He nodded

“So if your father sent you an owl tomorrow that says we have to get married in the summer...” you linked your wrists together behind his neck, swaying slightly as you looked up at him

“I’ll marry you. I would sacrifice my own life if it meant I could see you smile.”

“Bit dramatic there, Malfoy” you laughed

“You taught me well, Y/L/N”

“I’d rather you didn’t embarrass the both of us by getting up on the table. You can hold my hand though.”

“Anything for the Slytherin princess.”

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of the broom closet. Draco took your hand and held it firmly in his as you both walked into the great hall.

He started to think out loud about his breakfast but you watched for the reactions of your peers as you made your way to your table, no one was really shocked, most of them looked up and smiled excitedly before chattering to their friends, you walked past the gryffindor table and heard the words ‘bet’ and ‘owe’ get thrown about. Once you got to your friends Draco waited for you to sit down, right next to Pansy, before sitting on your other side with his arm around your waist.

“Y/L/N and Malfoy? I never saw that one coming” Blaise laughed, the sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Well get used to it, Zabini, cause you’ll be seeing it a whole lot more” You responded, moving closer into Draco’s lap.

Long gone were the days of hiding, as well as the days of Pansy Parkinson thinking she could steal your man.

#draco malfoy #draco #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy reader insert #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagines #hogwarts imagines #draco fluff #hp #hp imagines

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: A Lonely Impulse of Despair (standalone)

Summary: They knew about the anomaly and the resets, but forewarned is not always forearmed.

Notes: I got this idea into my head that what-if all the skeletons knew at least something about the anomaly and the resets and this is where it went. Read the tags!

Tags: Spicyhoney, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Dark, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Rough Sex, Lemony

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Snowdin always lived in darkness, broken only by the lighted lamps along the streets, powered by the core. There was no sun underground, no illusion of dawn and dusk. It was morning simply because the clocks stated it to be so, and that morning, Edge left his home to walk down the empty streets to the shops at the far end of town.

The other houses in town stood vacant. There was an occasional window lit, flickering light casting shadows out onto the snowdrifts, but their former inhabitants were gone.

There was no sign of any violence in those homes. None of those windows were broken, the doors undamaged. He’d gone into one where the door was standing open and found dishes in the sink, a pie sitting on the back of the counter for an upcoming dessert. Half-folded laundry sat in a basket, books and toys strewn about as if they were only waiting for their owners to return.

Edge touched nothing, only left and closed the door carefully behind him.

On this morning, snow was falling in a silent flurry. The flakes were piling up on streets that were no longer cleared daily by the Bun family. It was barely a hinderance. His boots cut easily through the loose drifts as he walked, alone, down to the other side of town.

There were children here once. Not so carefree as the ones he’d seen in the other Universes but even here on clear days they played in the snow until their parents called them back inside as the more dangerous night hours came.

A ridiculous notion. The illusion of safety during the day hours was just that, an illusion. There was no difference in the Underground and every minute of any day could bring treacherous events.

From a distance, Edge could see the lights were still on in the store. He’d left them on the day before when he’d come this same way. The store was the closest building to the edge of town that led into the woods surrounding it. If anyone were still out there, those lights could guide them into Snowdin.

The bell over the door rang as Edge pushed it open, a cheery warning to no one at all. The shop was as empty as the homes. The shelves had never been fully stocked at any time in Edge’s memory and the meagre offerings lining them were thinner than ever. There were no more fresh baked goods and only a handful of dried food remained. Most of the commodities left were canned, their lids coated with a thin layer of dust.

(dust, so much dust, how could it be)

Half of the remaining stock would have fit in Edge’s knapsack. It would make more sense to take all the food there and bring it home with him. Spare him the walk out in the open, keep him with necessary provisions for a time. Sensible.

Edge only took enough for the day and carefully noted what remained so he would know if anyone else came scavenging. Monster food would not rot or spoil, but eventually, he was going to run out of rations.

He gathered up the day’s supplies into his knapsack and went back outside into the swirling snow. He didn’t follow his half-buried tracks back home, instead going around the outskirts of town along the perimeter. None of his traps were disturbed, there was no indication that anyone had traveled this way. Just as it had been yesterday and the day before and the day before that. No signs, no people, no other Monsters.

There was nothing in the woods but hungry shadows that beckoned and cajoled for him to join them. Come to us, they said, there is nothing left for you in that town but emptiness and death. Come with us into the swirling snow and listen to secrets that only the mountain knows.

Edge ignored their call. He stopped at the borders of Waterfall where the snow began to melt into sludge and turned back, heading into town along the main road. He was nearly home when he caught sight of something that stopped him in his tracks. A figure in a familiar orange hoodie was sitting on his front porch steps, casually disregarding of the signs to ‘keep out’ and ‘beware’ that were strung on the barbed wire fence around it. There was a lit cigarette in his hand and Edge watched him lift it to his mouth and take a long drag, the exhaled smoke lost in the falling snow.

He hitched his knapsack higher on his shoulder and resumed his stride. Stretch didn’t look at him as he approached. “hey.”

Edge said nothing.

“you’re still here,” Stretch said. He tapped ash from his cigarette, exposing burning red at the tip. “thought maybe you’d’ve headed into new home.” He tipped his head back and looked up at what was not sky, but the high ceiling of a cave deep beneath the mountain that was both their prison and their home. “might be other refugees there keeping ahead of—” He hesitated, then added in a voice like hollow ice, “the anomaly.”

The anomaly, yes. The Human child whose soul offered no salvation, only death and dust.

A child, that was what Edge saw in that one brief instant when he came upon them on the road leading into Snowdin. An innocent child, and in his shock, he didn’t consider how they’d gotten past the Dogs or the traps. He didn’t notice the dust coating their clothes, didn’t even notice the knife in their hand. All he saw was the striped shirt, the round, cherubic face and in that instant, he was so taken aback that he paused. That moment of hesitation was all it took.

If Edge saw them again, he wouldn’t hesitate to strike them down, Edge told himself. He would cut that angelic head from their striped shoulders with a single cutting blow and leave them dead where they stood, even knowing he would never get the answer to his one question.

Why didn’t you kill me?

He told himself that was what he would do the next time and knew it wasn’t true.

It never was.

Stretch finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into the snow. “doesn’t help much to know this,” Stretch sighed, “but what the hell. you’re gonna forget this all. one morning you’ll wake up and it’ll be an all-new day. you’ll forget everything, the kid, the pain.” His grimace twisted into a crooked smile. “you’ll even forget me, for a little while. silver linings, am i right?”

“Why are you here?” How many days had it been since he’d last spoken? Edge wasn’t certain, but to his hearing, his voice was harsh with disuse, painfully hoarse.

Stretch rolled his shoulders in an approximation of a hug. “checking in. no one’s heard from this ‘verse in a couple weeks. wasn’t too hard to figure out what was going down.”

Not a difficult guess at all, he was sure. They all knew about the resets, all of them. They knew an anomaly came and what it did, and the price Monsters paid for their hubris was death. He’d known what was coming, he’d been braced for it since his brother took him down to the basement and showed the machine, the path to the other worlds where skeletons with faces that resembled their own lived in towns that were not their home. Anomalies, they explained, resets where time flowed backwards and took memory with it.

He’d known and he’d still failed, failed, because he hadn’t expected death would come with the face of a child.

“Come inside.” Edge didn’t wait to see if Stretch followed.

Inside, Stretch paused on the doormat, glancing around the living room. “keeping the homestead clean, i see, i—whoa!”

His breath left him in a grunt as Edge took hold of his sweatshirt and swung him around, shoving him up against the closed door. The faces were inches apart as Edge gritted out, “Why are you here?”

There was no fear on Stretch’s face, only that same irritating smirk beneath a deadened gaze. “told you, wanted to check on you.” He shrugged again, this time tight and nervous. “no one else was gonna. no one’s real sure what’ll happen if the reset comes while someone from another ‘verse is in town. probably shouldn’t even be here, but, eh, guess i ain’t too bright.”

The question of what would happen if you were in a different universe when the reset occurred had been asked before and it was one without an answer. There was simply no way of knowing if anyone had already tested it. For all anyone knew, they might all once have had an elder brother who tested the theory and found the price was a high one. “You might be leaving your brother alone.”

“heh.” A soft laugh, but Stretch’s gaze shifted, moving to look past Edge at the wall on the other side. “ain’t like i’ve ever been able to save him, anyway.”

Edge didn’t step back, but he loosened his grip on Stretch’s sweatshirt, let him slide a little down until his feet were firm on the floor. “If you’re here to try to convince me to leave Underfell—"

“nah. wouldn’t do that to you. see, i’d ask and you’d say no but you’d feel bad about it.” Stretch shook his head. “nah, you already don’t want to travel, i’m not about to send you on a guilt trip. who’s to say it’s safer, anyway. maybe you’d come over to visit and when the reset hit here, it’d drag you back on home through time and space. not my idea of fun.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Edge demanded. “For fun? Come to see Underfell at its safest?” He stepped back enough to wave a hand towards the window as mockingly as Mettaton on their latest game show. “Please, feel free. Wander through the woods, stroll down main street. But I warn you, the scenery will disappoint. There’s nothing out there. I’ve looked. There’s no one, nothing.” His voice was rising, going shrill and Edge shut his mouth, teeth clicking together painfully.

Patiently, hinting at petulance, Stretch said, “i told you, came here to check on you. it’s hard to be the last one around, all you can do is sweep up, put the chairs on the table, and wait for them to turn the open sign on again.”

Edge searched his face. Their skulls were more malleable than simple bone, their magic gave them life and Stretch’s skull was creased from worry, wearing his exhaustion like a skin. Beneath his sockets were grey shadows that spoke of sleepless nights.

They’d never gotten along, he and Stretch. Something about the other skeleton grated on him past the fact that he despite his face, he was more like Red—

(don’t, don’t think about him, don’t)

--than Edge. Not his twin, but a reversal, a twisted mirror image come to visit from the other side of the looking glass.

Despite his smiles, right now he looked more like Edge than ever, blank and bone-weary.

There was nothing inside Edge. Even his soul was empty, its contents drained by loss, cold and bitter as the snow that danced as it fell.

Yet, deep in the dregs of soul’s ashes there was a single spark left, and Edge reached for it, desperate for any lingering warmth. He leaned up and kissed Stretch, their teeth grinding together almost painfully.

Between their mouths, Stretch made a startled sound, but he made no attempt to pull away. He stood there with his shoulders pressed to the door and let Edge take his mouth, their tongues meeting in a furious tangle. He tasted sweet and did not flinch from the jaggedness of Edge’s teeth, licking daringly at the points in a silent, mocking challenge.

The spark inside him flared, kindling caught, and Edge tore away, panting. Before Stretch could offer a word, taunting or otherwise, Edge took him by the wrist and dragged him stumblingly over to the sofa. He pushed Stretch down, bent him over the threadbare cushion of the arm. Tall as he was, if he’d chosen to struggle, it would have been difficult to pin him. Instead, he sagged willingly down against the sofa arm, let it angle his pelvis upward even as he shifted in a deliberate writhe of offering.

The gray that had haunted Edge’s vision for days receded, like a shroud pulled from over his sockets. He took hold of Stretch’s ridiculous, saggy pants and yanked them down to his ankles to rest on top of his dirty sneakers. Beneath them he was bare, his magic forming in his pelvis. The bright orange filled his sight to overflowing and the slit of his cunt glistened like a taunt.

Without warning, Edge pressed two careless fingers to the opening, slipping both inside and Stretch lurched under him, a strangled cry escaping him. He was merely damp, not nearly wet enough for what Edge intended.

He kept a hand at Stretch’s hip to hold him still and dropped to his knees to bury his face against those soft folds, pushing his tongue in alongside his fingers. A sudden buck nearly threw him off and Edge held him down more firmly, slicking his tongue up that cleft between his scissoring fingers, wetting him thoroughly. Stretch whimpered, shivering, his hips rocking back desperately against fingers and mouth both.

“oh, fuck,” Stretch whined. His breath came in ragged blurts, catching and resuming in a shattered cadence. “edge, your mouth…fuck!” His fingers were curled into the sofa cushion beneath his skull, gripping tightly as Edge pushed his tongue deeply inside, tasting a sudden blurt of honey-sweet wetness that allowed his fingers to move easier.

Slowly, Edge stood, letting his fingers slip free and wiping them on his pantleg. He stood there a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. The quiver in Stretch’s shoulders, the perfect arch of his spine beneath his rucked-up sweatshirt, his femurs spread as wide as his hobbling pants allowed. The shift of his hips was as eager as the wet pussy between them and wordlessly, Edge unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. He spit in his hand and spread the wetness on his shaft before lining up. He held there a moment, pussy lips parted around the broad head and the slippery opening clenching around it as if trying to suck him inside.

Over his own unsteady breathing was a constant stream of obscenity and begging, words spilling endlessly from Stretch. With a long, slow thrust, Edge pressed inside, ignoring Stretch’s increasingly desperate pleading and the urgent rise of his hips. When he was hilted inside, their pelvic girdles grazing against each other, Edge was forced to pause, closing his sockets at the unbearable intimacy of it. Edge couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone else, but it was before the anomaly (child) ever came here. Even the person he was closest to, his brother, never touched him, not since he was small and they curled up together to sleep, less affection and more to share their body warmth.

The slick tight heat surrounding his shaft was an overload to his touch deprivation, the rippling clench dragging a ragged cry from him as he tried not to come in an instant. Edge took a steading breath, licked his teeth and tasted his own sweat mingled with the sweetness of cunt, and only then did he move.

“nnngg, god!” Stretch sobbed out, his limp body battered against the sofa as Edge found a rhythm, pounding into him with a metronome-steady pace. His scant ectoflesh offered little cushion, their pelvic bones clacking together achingly. Edge ignored the discomfort, thrusting harder still and listening for protests that did not come.

Beneath him, Stretch covered his mouth with a hand, stifling himself even as he pleaded for more, for harder, fuck me harder, you bastard. His other struggled to reach beneath him, his skinny fingers briefly jabbing where they were joined as he sought out his clit. Edge felt it from within as he found it, the strangling clench of his cunt around him, and choked on a curse as he fucked in hard, his driving rhythm faltering, breaking, as orgasm struck him. He was empty inside, but he filled Stretch with the heat of his come, spilled in thick, hot pulses as Stretch whined and quivered, accepting his offering.

Withdrawing was difficult, made harder by both the spasming clutch of cunt and his own reluctance. In the end, Edge snatched himself free with the haste of someone (a child) pulling off a band-aid from a barely healed wound. He watched the crimson spill of his magic as it followed, wet streaks dripping down to paint the inside of Stretch’s femurs. Stretch didn’t move, his breathing still coming in hitched gasps as he laid in a half-crumpled drape over the sofa arm, his long legs still splayed, leaving him used and exposed.

Edge tugged his pants closed, his zipper loud in the silence. “You need to go.”

“heh.” Stretch stirred, his sockets slitting opened as he shifted enough to look over his shoulder. “kicking me out already? your afterglow sucks.”

“Be that as it may, you can’t be here when it resets.”

Perhaps something of the kindled spark in Edge transferred to Stretch somehow, in his kiss, in his come, in his words, he didn’t know which. There was some emotion in the smirk Stretch offered him, his gaze less empty as he asked, “worried about me, edgelord?”

“Yes.” The raw honesty was all he could muster.

Stretch exhaled, long and slow, turning his face briefly into the cushions where they’d all sat once, crowded together on the cushions to watch silly movies that were scavenged from the dump. With a low grunt, he slowly pushed up to his feet. He staggered and Edge caught him by the arm, holding him up as Stretch reached awkwardly for his pants, hauling them up over his stained femurs.

“yeah, i should probably go,” Stretch said. He didn’t move, his hands fluttering nervously to his pockets as if to reach for his cigarettes then aborting, moving aimlessly before returning to his pockets before repeating (resetting) again. “listen, you won’t remember this after and my memory is gonna get all smudgy again, but.” For one moment, Stretch’s gaze was entirely unshielded. Edge couldn’t decipher what he saw in his eyelights before he took reached out, taking hold of Edge’s face between both hands as he leaned in to kiss him, softly. A brief, gentle meeting of mouths still sore from the brutality of earlier, then he pulled away. “maybe we can do this again sometimes.” Unguarded eye lights above a crooked smile, then Stretch turned away as he added, carelessly. “hell, could be we already did.”

“Stretch.” He paused at the door, browbones raised, and Edge blurted out, “Do you think they remember what they’ve done? After a reset, do they know?”

A brief silence, then Stretch said, slowly, “to be honest? i’m not even sure it’s the same kid every time.” Stretch shrugged, a loose roll of his shoulders as if his ligaments still weren’t too tight. “maybe somewhere out there someone is sharing a controller. anyway, your bro should be sending ‘em back to the start menu soon enough.”

“Yes.” His brother. If he was still alive and don’t, don’t, don’t.

Stretch left without another word, the door closing softly behind him, and Edge gathered up his knapsack from where he’d dropped it to get his supplies.

He ate directly from the cans and tasted nothing.

Afterward, Edge curled up on the sofa that smelled of their sex, his cheekbone resting on the faded fabric close to the still-damp stains as he waited for the world to end or to begin again.

Whichever came first.

-fin

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #standalone

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prettyboyreid · 5 years ago

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can you read to me? (II)

part one

Even after a silly fight, the reader can’t seem to go to sleep without Matthew next to her.

College!Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 3223

Waking up next to Matthew always felt warm. From the touch of his skin to the weight of his heavy blankets… The only way to describe it was warm.

You woke up before him, just as the sun came up through the windows. His arms were wound around you, holding you to his chest. You could hear the soft snores escaping between his pink lips. The dark circles around his eyes were barely lightening up, but they looked better than they did last night. You smiled a bit, admiring his features before you checked the time. You let out a huff as his alarm clock reminded you it was just past seven in the morning, rubbing your eyes tiredly as his arm reached over you to turn it off.

You sat up slightly as he woke up, running your hands back through your slightly knotted hair as he adjusted the way he sat in the slightly uncomfortable bed. You felt his eyes on you, but you could only push yourself out of your spot.

His arm instinctively reached out for you, wrapping his large hand around your wrist. He pulled it away quickly, though, worried it would be overstepping or that he might have hurt you. You looked back at him anyway, crossing your arms over your chest to try and warm your body up a bit, not prepared for how cold his room would have been when you woke up.

“We should probably talk,” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. You nodded in agreement, looking around the barren room one more time before your gaze met his. His eyes were sad, like he had let his emotions bottle up and they were about to break through to the surface.

You sat at the edge of the bed and tucked your feet beneath you, waiting for him to talk. He took his blanket and wrapped it around you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable before he began.

“I’m so sorry,” he said immediately. You could tell he wanted to make sure you knew that, whether you heard him last night or not. “I was just being dumb and I let my feelings get in the way of yours. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you like that and I’m sorry,” he repeated, his hands folded in his lap as he spoke. He was usually expressive with his hands, letting them move around wildly as they told their own story, but now they were dormant.

You hugged the blanket around you a bit tighter, taking in the scent of him he left behind that you had missed so much. You had a few of his hoodies and shirts, but his smell faded away quickly, leaving you only with the aroma of your dorm room and your laundry detergent.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that,” you apologized, knowing you were at fault for the short break the two of you took. “I should have let you talk, I just… I was frustrated and didn’t even listen to you. I should’ve at least come back.”

He shook his head softly, running his long fingers back through his messy hair. “It’s not your fault,” he insisted, checking the time on his alarm clock again before looking back at you.

“I have my English final in twenty minutes, but if you want you can come back later and we can talk some more?” he offered, standing up before heading over to his closet. He was only in a pair of black boxer briefs right now, but he pulled out a New York University hoodie and a pair of black jeans. He quickly got dressed and ran a hand back through his hair a few times just to make it look presentable.

I simply nodded in response, getting up from his bed and trying to make it up a bit before you stood between the two dorm beds, arms folded over your chest as you looked over at him once he was dressed. “Uh, yeah. I have my film final at ten, but we can meet up for lunch if that works for you?” you suggested, watching as he made sure he had everything together for when he had to go to his final.

He smiled softly at the idea of the two of you going to lunch, almost like a little date. You had lunch every day together, and for the past two weeks you just felt a void in your day, sitting alone in your dorm with a take out meal from one of the many different fast food restaurants on the campus. You were almost positive he was doing the same thing.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Do you want to just meet back here?” he offered, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he spoke. I nodded softly, checking the time before heading to the door.

“That’s fine,” you said with a faint smile, looking back around his room yet again before turning to Matthew once again. “I’ll see you then,” you added, leaning up onto the tips of your toes before pressing a quick kiss to his lips just prior to leaving him once again.

Your final was excruciating. You sat through all of your classmates' amateur films, your foot tapping anxiously on the thinly carpeted floors as you waited for your professor to dismiss all of you. While it was one of your favorite classes, you loathed the thought of staying here much longer when you knew you would be able to see Matthew again.

Just before noon, your professor let you all go with a bid of a good winter break. You scrambled as you collected your items and shoved them messily into your bag, practically tripping over your own feet as you made your way out of the large lecture hall and into the cold New York air.

It was usually a quick walk back to the dorm building, but today, it was as if more people had been in your way than usual, and they all were walking as slow as they possibly could. You constantly checked the clock on your phone, hoping to any sort of God that he wouldn’t just decide to leave after waiting for you for so long.

At 12:04, you found yourself at the entrance of the dorms, nearly sprinting to the elevators before you pressed the “up” button. The large metal doors opened for you almost immediately, and you stepped in and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The feeling of the cart pulling you upward almost made you feel sick, reminding me of the conversation you were bound to have almost immediately.

Matthew didn’t like to beat around the bush, and you admired that, but it also wasn’t always the best, especially when, right now, you just wanted to catch up. What had he been up to? Did he go see that new movie he had been talking about? Did he go to any parties?

As soon as the two metal doors pushed themselves apart, you took a right and immediately headed for his room. You held tightly onto the strap of your bag, as if your tight grip would calm your nerves, before knocking softly on the wood. You heard shuffling inside for a moment before Matthew came to the door, giving you a weak smile as he looked down at you.

“Hey,” he greeted you, somewhat blocking your view into his room, and not doing it subtly. You raised an eyebrow at his greeting, folding your arms across your chest as you tried to peer past him. He leaned slightly in your line of sight, hoping you would think that he was only stretching out after having to sit through a long final.

He wasn’t so lucky.

“What are you doing, Matthew?” you asked him, raising your eyebrows slightly at him. You could tell by his expression that he knew he wasn’t going to be able to cover up whatever he was hiding, but he also wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“N-nothing, just a little stiff, that’s all. I sat in that final for like two hours; I’m still a little sore,” he told you.

You always knew whenever he was lying to you. He had a tell - he would scrunch up his nose a lot more than he normally would. Right now, he would let it scrunch up between every few words.

You raised one of your eyebrows at him, trying to at least get the truth out of him before you pushed his door open further. You huffed out in annoyance at the sight before looking between Matthew and his bed.

On his bed - that you had slept on last night and made up this morning for him - was sitting his “best friend since freshman year.” Lydia was on her phone, ignoring whatever was going on at the door, as if being there was a chore. She glanced up slightly at the sound of the door hitting the wall closest to it, giving you a snide smile before looking down to the screen in her hands.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Matthew?” you asked him, your nostrils flared a bit as you turned to face him again. His cheeks were pink and his full attention was on you, but you could hardly be bothered to notice that right now.

“It’s not what you think,” he assured you immediately, his hands digging into the front pockets of his black jeans. “We were just talking. I swear to God, we just talked,” he promised, his eyes practically pleading for you to believe him.

“Were you talking to her for the past two weeks?” you asked him, not even waiting for him to answer before you turned on your heels and walked towards the other end of the hall. This time, he had at least half the conscience to follow you down to your dorm.

You didn’t want to let him in, but he made his way in just before you slammed the door.

“She came down to see if I was alright before she left! That was it!” he insisted, following you as you paced around your dorm. He made sure to keep some distance from you, not wanting to be too close to impose on your personal space.

Despite the fact that he really, really just wanted to hug you and tell you nothing had happened.

“Did you hang out with her in the past two weeks?” you asked him again. You couldn’t be mad at him if he did, since you weren’t technically together. But that wouldn’t stop you from being pissed at her.

He was silent for a moment before he nodded. “I didn’t know who else to call the day after, and I needed to talk to someone, and she was there.”

“Because I wasn’t a feasible option to talk to when we had just had an argument?”

He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he rubbed his eyes with his long fingers. “I didn’t want you to be upset with me or something. I figured you’d break up with me if I talked to you and I couldn’t handle that, alright?” he said, leaning against your bedpost while you stood in front of him. You watched his face as he looked distraught, trying to piece his feelings together in the best way to express them through his words.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink a bit at the way he phrased it. He figured you two were still together. You had assumed the same thing, but given that you two didn’t end up trying to fix things for two weeks, that led you to the conclusion it was over.

You couldn’t determine if that was a good or bad thing right now.

“Did you two… do anything?” you asked hesitantly. You knew she probably would have tried something, given what she had told you multiple times throughout your relationship with Matthew, but you needed to know for yourself if she had acted on it.

He was silent for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh. “She… she uh, kissed me,” he confessed to you, scratching at the back of his neck. When he saw your face drop, he shook his head quickly. “No, no, it wasn’t like that or anything. I- I pulled away as quick as I could, I promise.” His glossed eyes proved to you that he was telling the truth, but the knot in your stomach that he had formed didn’t make you feel any better.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, running your hands over your face as you took it all in. You were expecting that answer, but it didn’t make it any less hard to hear.

“It’s not a big deal,” he started, pushing himself off of the bedpost before moving to sit beside you on the bed. “I’m sure you hung out with Jack or something while we were… whatever we were,” he said sympathetically, trying to make you feel better, trying to get rid of some of the guilt he had obviously been carrying around since that had happened.

“I didn’t, actually,” you snapped at him, turning to face him as you spoke. “I told him that night that I wasn’t going to hang out with him again. I thanked him for his help but let him know I had a boyfriend,” you told him, venom dripping off of each syllable as you spoke. You felt a little bad as you watched your boyfriend practically cower into himself as you raised your voice, looking down at his lap so he didn’t have to face looking at you.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to Y/N. I just needed a friend and she… she needed something else, I suppose,” he said, as if this was his form of an apology. It wasn’t exactly top-tier, but that wasn’t what you were worried about right now.

“Why didn’t you stop talking to her after that? Especially if you were under the assumption we were still together?!” you asked him, standing up from your spot on the bed so you faced him. His eyes darted around, as if he were trying to figure out the best possible way to explain it to you, until he simply shrugged.

“I don’t know. It was stupid, and I guess none of my other friends would have really understood what I was going through-”

“I did, Matthew!” you reminded him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I knew exactly what you were going through, and you didn’t have the decency to come down the hall and talk to me,” you spat at him, frustrating yourself over and over again the more you thought about it.

“You didn’t either, Y/N. You could’ve come down and talked to me if you really needed to. It’s not my job to fix everything in this relationship. It’s not supposed to be so one sided,” he reminded you. You huffed softly, running your hands back through your hair before you shook your head.

“Just… leave, Matthew,” you said, knowing that if either of you stayed much longer that someone would say something they’d regret.

Your heart shattered in your chest all over again as you watched his eyes shift from angry to sad, his honey brown eyes widening and glassed over as he looked up at you. He stood up quickly, and you watched as he strained to rest his hands on your shoulders or bring you in for one of his famous tight bear hugs. “Wait, no, can we just… let’s just talk, please,” he pleaded with you, not wanting to have a repeat of the situation you had just found yourselves in. He couldn’t deal with not talking to you for that long again, only to have you start fighting once more.

“I just… I need to think, okay?” you said, much more harshly than you intended. He nodded softly, running his hands back through his messy hair before making his way to the door.

“Can you promise me something?” he said in a quiet voice, barely turning his head over his shoulder as he spoke. You nodded, knowing he would probably continue either way. “Come down before break,” he started, his hand resting on the cold metal doorknob. “I don’t want to go a month without talking to you,” he added, opening the door and closing it gently behind him before he got a chance to respond.

You spent the rest of the day in your dorm, mostly in your bed. You mulled over the argument over and over, resting your head on the white walls as you stared at nothing.

Your roommate had come back after her final only to change quickly. There was an end of the semester party going on at one of the frat houses at the other end of campus, and after seeing you moping, she wanted you to join. You thanked her but denied her offer, just wanting to spend the night by yourself. It was better than being surrounded by sweaty drunk and high college students celebrating their last final before they had to go home once again.

Once she had left, you ordered in some food from your favorite restaurant on campus, thankful that they had a delivery system in place. You didn’t want to have to leave your dorm again, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed up into your mass of blankets and pillows. You had opened your laptop to watch a movie just as your food arrived, paying for it and thanking the delivery man before playing a random movie you had saved to your drive.

You ate your food in silence, and once that movie was over, you just played another, and another, and another. You distracted yourself from your problems until your roommate came home, one of her friends helping her into the room and changing her into some sleep clothes. You closed your laptop and looked at the time, letting out a quiet groan as you saw that it was just past two.

As your roommate finally got settled into bed, you thanked her friend for her before turning off all of the lights, sinking down into your sheets as you stared up at the ceiling, memorizing the paint patterns as you tried to lull yourself to sleep.

You counted sheep, you counted backwards from one hundred, you tried to steady your breathing, but nothing seemed to work. You envied your friend across from you as she easily found herself fast asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

You tossed and turned on your mattress, quietly groaning as each half hour passed by, begging your body for some rest. You had a final that afternoon and you were headed home the day after, and you just wanted an hour, a half hour, any amount of sleep.

You soon realized that that was going to be impossible, especially as the sun began to poke out over the horizon, letting you and everyone else in New York City that a new day was about to begin.

God, you just wished that you could hear him read to you.

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years ago

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Fifteen (pt 8)

A/N: thank you for all the love on part 7!! it really popped off. I was expecting maybe 2 people to read this so thank you for all the kind messages :)

word count: 3.5k

tw: cursing, angst, all around sad vibes

masterlist!

The clock read 7:13. Derek had responded almost immediately, telling him he’d be there at 8 sharp. Spencer paced around the room in a circle around the box. He had time, just one more letter wouldn’t hurt?

‘No pace yourself,’ He thought, but somehow kept migrating towards the box. Like it was the sun and he was caught in its gravitational pull, or more accurately, it was a black hole, sucking him in and swallowing him whole.

He sat in front of it, trying to find some will power to just stop and breathe for a moment. Every word was like a jab in the gut, but he couldn’t stay away. He was twisting the knife you had shoved in his heart. Maybe he’s a glutton for punishment.

He grabbed the box and letter 7. Lucky #7 belonged to the Caltech hoodie he had folded neatly in the bottom of the box when he knocked it over. He smiled, remembering the million times he had seen you wear it. He couldn’t remember the last time he put it on; it always looked better on you anyways. He unfolded it and pulled it over his body. The smell of you enveloped him. You smelled like vanilla and musk and almonds and sunshine and happiness. It smelled warm. It smelled like home.

“Why do you put on a thousand sprays of perfume?” He recalled asking you, coming up behind you while you were getting ready for date night.

He wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You giggled under him, spinning around in his arms so you faced him and shook the bottle in his face.

“I like to smell good. It’s an underrated sense.”

He smiled, still holding your body close to his, “I know, isn’t it? Olfaction is the most primal of the six senses. It is closely linked to survival and can bring out instinctive and subconscious behavior.”

You spun out of his arms and back to your dresser, still listening to him intently. You always listened, no matter how many times he went on the same rant, you always listened and even chimed in sometimes. You nodded along to what he was saying as you clasped the locket around your neck and fixed up your makeup.

“Fragrances have the ability to evoke both positive and negative psychological states of mind and reactions in milliseconds. Scents bypass the thalamus and go straight to the brain's smell center, the olfactory bulb, which is directly connected to the amygdala and hippocampus.”

“So that’s why smells trigger intense memories?” You said, adjusting Spencer’s constantly crooked tie and running your hands across his chest.

“Exactly.”

He missed how it felt to have your hands on his chest, feeling his pounding heart through his dress shirt. He missed how you would wiggle his tie to fix it and when it was especially bad you’d even undo it and retie it for him.

“Well, then I hope every time you smell me you remember something good,” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Spencer made a face and wiped at his cheek, “Lip gloss?”

You giggled and overzealously applied another coat, pursing your lips into a kiss.

“It looks amazing but it’s so... sticky.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss me,” you said, shrugging and turning away.

“Oh, I most definitely have to kiss you.”

You were right, smelling you did trigger some hidden memory in his mind. He hadn’t thought about that day in years.

The things he’d do to complain about a sticky, glittery, lip gloss kiss again.

He buried his face in the sleeves, wishing it was the crook of your neck and began to read:

“This one is short, sweet, and to the point. I feel like I’m getting redundant, and my hand is cramping. I just keep saying how sad and lost I am. It’s getting boring. So let's get into the CalTech hoodie.

It’s the first item you moved into my place. It’d been about a year and a half of us being together and you were spending most nights with me. Your apartment is great, and cozy, and so undeniably you, but mine is bigger. Mine was made for two people; it even has a guest room.

One day I cleared out the bottom drawer of my dresser. You always brought your go-bag and I thought it was finally time for you to graduate to a drawer. That night I opened the drawer and said, “Ta-da!” while giving you jazz hands.

Your mouth curled up into a smile, “What’s this?”

“This is your drawer.”

“My drawer?” Your eyebrows went up in shock. I thought maybe I was being too much, maybe it was too soon, so I backpedaled.

“Well, I mean, I thought since you’ve been coming with the bag all this time, I’d give you somewhere to keep some pajamas and stuff so you wouldn’t have to b-bring the bag? I don’t know I’m sorry—“

You scooped me up in a kiss, dropping your bag on the ground. You lifted me off the ground and I wrapped my legs around your torso. It was like a movie.

“I love it,” you said, peppering me with more kisses.

“And,”

Kiss

“I,”

Kiss

“Love,”

Kiss

“You.”

You put me down and I was smiling so hard my face hurt. The love of my life was semi moving in with me. That officially made it serious in my book. You unpacked the bag and this sweatshirt is the first thing you put in the drawer.

Over time, one drawer turned into two drawers, and into an entire dresser. And eventually a rack in my closet (your three-piece suits must hang) and two toothbrushes. There were two sets of shampoo and conditioner, two mugs were always in the sink waiting to be washed, and two used sides of my bed. You brought little bits of yourself with you every time, leaving books or papers. It started out with you staying over after every date night, then every weekend, and eventually we drove to and from work together because we were both going to the same place. Home.

When we invited our friends over it wasn’t “Let’s go to Y/N’s” it was “Let’s go to Y/N and Spencer’s.” I loved that. It was our place, Spence. And we lived together so well. I cooked (or tried to) and you’d do the dishes. I’d do laundry and you liked to fold it. You took out the garbage and I fed the fish. Then at the end of a long night I’d snuggle up on the couch next to you and we’d watch Dr. Who or something else like that and you’d rub my feet or back. I’d always fall asleep on the couch on top of you and you’d always carry me up to bed.

Everyone thought it was a little odd that you lived with me but still had your apartment. I always thought it was a little weird too, but you said you used it like an office and for storage.

“You have one bookcase Y/N, where am I supposed to put my stuff?” Is what you’d say and I’d laugh and joke that you lived in a library. I’m glad you kept it though, you ended up needing it at the end. Even when we were together it was your getaway. You would go there to recharge a lot. It’s your safe place. That’s why I’m glad you’re reading all this there.

Me?

I’m writing this at the kitchen table where we would share coffee every morning and you’d read the newspaper from an obscure small town. The kitchen table where I’d time how fast it took you to do the crossword and you’d pass me the comics because you know how much I love Garfield. I have the blanket you got me for Christmas one year over my shoulders. It’s the red one that we laid under many nights on the couch. It smells like you. Everything in this place smells like you. I used to love that. In the beginning, it reminded me of you when you were gone. I’d miss you and grab this blanket or a shirt or anything that was yours and shove my face into it. You always smell like old books and fall, like cinnamon and firewood. I used to love it. Now as I’m sitting here wrapped in this blanket that smells like you I’m nauseous. I can’t live in a place that is so you without YOU, Spencer. It’s cruel really, how you permeated through every part of my life. It’s gut wrenching, but my fault. If I hadn’t allowed you to be all consuming this would be easier, maybe I wouldn’t hurt so much. I lost everything the day I lost you. I used to be angry. I’m sorry for all the nights I yelled at you. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t even realize how much you were hurting too. I promise you, I’m not mad anymore. I’m just sad and tired, so emotionally exhausted.

Some nights even after you left I’d wear this to sleep. I’d snuggle up in it and pretend it was your arms taking me away to a dreamland much better than here. The smell of you triggers all the memories. Because the amygdala and olfactory bulb are close together or something, right?

Well I’m sick of the memories. They come like waves; one moment I’m fine. Right now I’m thinking of you and me baking and icing cupcakes for Mia’s birthday and getting flour all over ourselves and laughing. Then I’ll remember me and you and the yelling and then I cry, no not cry, I wail. And then I start all over again.

That’s another reason why I have to leave. I can’t inhabit a two bedroom when it’s just me anymore. So there you go, here’s the hoodie. It’s tattered and pilled and shrunk and has a bleach stain from how much I washed it but it’s yours. It’s about time you have it back.”

Maybe he had permeated through your life, but was that such a bad thing? He planned on spending the rest of his with you; making your two lives and two souls into one just made sense. He put the paper down and just let himself be consumed by the smell and many memories of you, crashing over him like waves. He allowed himself to drown, finding an odd comfort in the feeling.

At 7:52 Spencer was sitting on the couch waiting for Derek. He thought maybe they should do this in a coffee shop or somewhere public, but he knew he’d be crying in minutes and didn’t need an audience. He just needed his friend.

When the knock on the door came he didn’t hesitate. He just opened it up and let Derek in.

“I’m sorry about before. I-I just,” Spencer sputtered out his attempt at an apology, lifting his arms and letting them fall in defeat. The hoodie had shrunk; the sleeves barely reached his wrists.

“It’s okay kid, I know,” Derek grabbed his shoulder in the same big brother way he always did, and they both sat on the couch.

“Coffee?” Spencer offered. Derek nodded and within minutes he had his own steaming cup. They sat in awkward silence, neither one of them knowing what to say or where to start.

Derek spoke first.

“When you left work yesterday, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. What’s going on, Reid? I know that wasn’t just from Y/N leaving.”

Spencer gulped. He had seen a ghost, the ghost of you. Not the you he had seen just yesterday morning, he saw the you that he remembered sharing a home with, sharing a bed with, sharing the clothes on his back with. Had it only been twenty hours since he saw you last? He felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. He couldn’t even remember anything about you yesterday clearly. Was your hair up or down? Did you wear pants or a skirt? Did you laugh? It felt like you weren’t even there, and that was the last time he would see you. He felt sick.

“I think the easier question is what isn’t going on.”

“Reid, I know you’re hurting man, talk to me.”

Spencer looked at Derek with his head tilted sideways, “Did you know about the box?”

“The box? What box?”

Spencer got up and made his way to the chess table, grabbing the now much lighter box and dropping it on the coffee table. The two mugs rattled, a little coffee spilled out.

“This box.”

Derek leaned to look in it, flicking through the open letters Spencer put on top, “What is this?”

“A box of stuff Y/N wanted me to have and a bunch of letters detailing exactly how we got here.”

Derek laughed lightly, “She always did have a flare for the dramatic. What’s in it?”

Spencer sighed, he didn’t want to tell him the details, “I’m only about halfway through it all.”

“Do you want to go through it together?”

Spencer scratched the back of his head, “No, I think she wants me to do this alone.”

Derek understood, “Well talk to me about it so far. What’s going on up there?” He poked Reid’s head playfully, trying to lighten up the dark room.

“It’s been pretty happy so far. It’s full of good memories, first date, anniversary, when she met my mom. But I know what comes next. I just don’t want to keep going.”

He stared into the wrinkled papers, “There’s so many things she never said to me and I never said to her. The more I read the more it feels like I didn’t even know her.”

“You know that isn’t true. You knew her better than anyone. The two were like two halves of a whole person.”

Spencer nodded, his throat going dry despite all the coffee he was pouring down it. He thought you were two halves of one soul; but the more he learned about the last three years, the farther from the truth that seemed.

“Reid, look at me,” Derek forced Spencer to make eye contact, “I know the last few months were bad. I spent them with her. Tell me your side.”

Spencer laid back into the couch, wishing it would just swallow him whole.

Derek sighed, “Kid, I know I should’ve been more there for you then, but I’m here now. Talk to me.”

“Alright,” Spencer conceded, “It was 127 days ago. That’s when everything happened.”

Derek could feel Spencer stiffen beside him, “That’s when Y/N went on leave but I stayed at work.” He gulped, a dreadful feeling and sour taste already in his mouth, “I felt bad about leaving her alone, I really did, but I just couldn’t be there. I couldn’t walk around that place and know what should’ve been. I couldn’t be there for her the way she needed me to be. She needed to talk and cry, like all the time. I just needed space and some alone time to figure out my head. I took it whenever I could. The very little time we did spend together was spent fighting. I don’t think we had a normal conversation until a few weeks ago. Then after the month was up she said she wasn’t ready to come back yet. She took more days, and Hotch let her. Hell, he encouraged her to. He wouldn’t even let her near the building until a month and a half ago. I kept telling her it wasn’t healthy; she couldn’t just sit there all day and wallow. She didn’t listen to me, she just let the grief swallow her whole. And then we went on that stupid trip, God I wish I hadn’t gone.”

“The one to the beach?”

Spencer groaned, “Yeah, it was awful. It was supposed to be a week but by day three we were at each other’s throats so much that I flew home. I started avoiding her even more, spending every night in my apartment. Eventually, her four week leave ended up being closer to eight, and in week five we broke up. Technically, she broke up with me, but I know I wasn’t in it. She just didn’t get that I need to be alone sometimes, that’s just how I process stuff.”

Derek nodded, “You put up walls.”

“That’s an understatement,” Spencer chuckled, “But then I realized how badly I messed up. I forced her away, and I hated myself for it. So, I started going to her place, begging her to talk to me. I wanted to fix it. But just when I took my walls down, she put hers up. I lost her.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being Spencer’s sniffles. He felt lighter, like the weight of that damn box was no longer on his shoulders. Then he felt himself go numb again and he couldn’t quite tell if that was better or worse than the heartache.

“I checked on her every day, you know?” Derek broke the delicate silence.

Spencer turned to look at him and made eye contact. Derek looked tired too.

“I never thanked you for that.”

Derek shook his head, “There’s no need to, you would’ve done it for me. Sometimes it was a text, other days I’d bring her something to eat and force her out of bed. She didn’t talk much, but you know what she did talk about?”

Spencer just shrugged.

“She’d ask about you. Every damn day.”

Spencer didn’t know whether to be elated or distraught, “Everyday?”

Derek nodded, “Everyday.”

“What else did she do?” Spencer said with a watery smile.

Derek laughed, “She was always in bed; I was shocked she even gathered herself up enough to go on that trip. When I’d go see her I’d bring takeout and she wouldn’t eat it. I practically force fed her for a month.”

“She was looking skinnier.”

“Yeah, I think something like twenty pounds? I thought it was from—“

Spencer cut him off, not wanting him to say it. Saying it out loud made it real, and he didn’t want it to be real.

“What else did she do?”

“She made me watch a lot of New Girl.”

Spencer stifled a laugh, “Yeah, she loves Nick.”

“What’s that one line she’d always say? Something about reading?”

“‘I'm not convinced I know how to read. I've just memorized a lot of words,’” Spencer said and he and Derek fell into genuine laughter. For a moment it felt like everything would be okay.

But the silence came again, and although it was much more comfortable this time, the heartache returned. They sat there, Spencer’s head and heart hurting and Derek trying his hardest to just be there. He wanted to be what Spencer needed, like he had been what you needed.

Spencer knew you were in bed constantly, barely eating, maybe waking up to shower. He knew all of that but still couldn’t bear to be near you. He felt like the worst person alive.

“So what now?” Derek asked.

Spencer shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. Where do I go from here?”

Derek sighed, leaning back into the couch, “There’s only two options, kid. You get over it here or you get your ass on a plane and go get the girl, movie style.”

Spencer chuckled, “I want to, but she explicitly asked me not to.”

Derek opened his mouth but Spencer knew what he was going to say, so he cut him off, “And she said I couldn’t send you after her either.”

“What? Why not?” Derek looked at him confused.

“‘Don’t chase me and don’t send Derek to chase me. We both deserve to move on.’ It was in the rules.”

Derek took a long sip of coffee, “You know neither of you are going to move on, don’t you?”

Spencer reached up to rub his temples, willing away the dull ache forming behind his eyes. He did know. He knew this feeling in his chest would never go away, just fade with time. He knew that if he was in a room full of all the people he loved he’d immediately look for you. You. Not JJ. Not his own Mother. You.

“Yeah,” he croaked, “And I don’t want to.”

Derek pulled him into a hug and Spencer buried his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. When they separated they both just stared at the box.

“You gotta finish them, kid. It’ll hurt like hell but maybe it’ll give you some closure.”

Spencer nodded and reached in to grab #8, “Want to see what’s in this one?”

Derek shook his head, “Nah, this is between you and the lady.”

Derek made his way towards the door as Spencer toyed with the envelope, “And if you change your mind, I can get us on the next flight out there and you can go get the girl, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer smiled, “I just might take you up on that, but not until I’m done here.”

Derek smiled and gave him one last pat on the back, leaving Spencer with the box.

part 9!

taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings

@ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #reid #reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid self insert #spencer x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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artisticestheticreads · 5 years ago

Text

Mrs. Officer

A/N: Aight, so boom. Ya girl can’t sleep so I was up listening to this Apple 2008 Hip Hop playlist and this song came on. That’s when I got this idea. Hear me out. Our King of Oakland gets pulled over but ends up not minding. Hope y’all enjoy. This will have a couple parts or so...nah jk...unless....

WARNING: Police, unsafe driving, short (as hell) Erik being Erik and smutty situations.(It’s still fuck twelve though...)

SONG RECOMMENDATION: Mrs. Officer by Lil Wayne

WORD COUNT: 1213

It was a calm California day in December when one of the smoothest men in West LA rolled his navy blue 1990’s inspired low rider. He was listening to old school Lil Wayne with his right hand on the wheel and left on the outside of his window. The sun was still out and the streets still flowed with a plenty of people to check out how clean his ride was.

He stopped at a red light bopping his head to the beat when a 2019 cherry red Jaguar pulled up. The driver was a Latin looking guy who had hair gel back and gray eyes. The driver of the low rider looked at the man and straight ahead. He heard how the Jaguar revved up his engine. Then, all of a sudden the light turned green and they were off. They were neck at neck with one another, 80 mph in a 50 miles zone.

The low rider was in lead when he heard it and saw the flashing lights behind him. “Fuck, they always wanna fuck with someone”, the black man said slowly pulling over and turning his music down. The officer stepped out, pants tight and shoes clicking against the pavement. The driver held out his hands out the window with his license and registration. As a black man in America, he knew the protocol. He was “threatening”, intimidating at least. He stayed cool and chill.

“Hm, I see this isn’t your first time getting pulled over, huh brotha”, he heard. But this voice was so smooth like a songbird to his eardrums. So delicate like freshly done laundry and her scent was like cinnamon on a Christmas Day. The man looked up and couldn’t believe the vision in his sight. She stood there, brown skin looked as if it was kissed by God herself. Kinky hair in a slick back bun, eyes like chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Her figure...

“Damn”; she was thicker than a natural woman’s hair without a perm. She held a pad in her hands, clicking the pen. “Sir, you okay?” Her thick brow rose with the question. The man cleared his throat and looked up with a smirk. “I’m way better than okay, Mrs. Officer. How ya doing, beautiful?”

“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over”, she said as her hands grazed his fingertips to gather his stuff. He leaned into the window and up to look at her gorgeous, full, pink lips and said “nah, but I’m feeling in doe. Why did you pull me over, ma’am?”

“Well”, she looked at his license and back at him “Mr. Stevens, you were going a good 85 miles per hour back there. You could have hurt someone or worst. Yourself.” Mr. Stevens smirked up at her badge then looked at her hand before he went to her eyes. “Well, thank you Mrs. Officer Y/L/N. For making sure I was good but you must have not seen the muthafucka driving past me.”

Mrs. Officer rose her brow with a smirk as she pointed down the street making him look. There was the other car, pulled over and head into the hood getting cuffed. “Well, sir. You should be glad that I pulled you over and not that pasty ass bastard.” He smiled at her as she leaned down to his face. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

She stood straight and made her way back to her car as she watched in the side mirror. He watched as her wide set hips went side to side making him getting in a trance. He had to thank Bast above for blessing him with an officer like that. He watched as she stood at her door, tucking her loose hair behind her ear and imagined how she would look with her fro out. Imagined her with just handcuffs and heels, with her behind in the air. Stevens imagined her riding him while her breasts bounced. His hands gripping onto her hips tightly and her huge ass bouncing like a two set of basketballs. He imagined them having wild, kinky sex while choking each other; resulting them in climaxing together.

“Mr. Erik Stevens”; her sweet voice pulled him back into reality. He looked up at her as she held out his stuff for him. His fingers caressed hers as he took the papers back. He looked at her eyes and smirk noticing her smirking back only a tad before saying “you’re free to go. I’m letting you off with a warning.”

“How come”, he asked and she knelt down to his eye level. “Because your record seems to be clean according to my system and besides you were just having a little too much fun. But if I catch you again doing this, you’ll be in very big trouble.” He chuckled and said “I guess all cops ain’t bad. I mean ya are bad but in a good way though. A beautiful way.”

She rolled her eyes and said “ya just saying that because I’m not giving you a ticket.” He looked up to her and shook his head. “Nah, I meant that shit. Pretty self out here protecting” Her eyes bored into his and he can see the lust in her eyes. “Aight, get outta here before I write ya a ticket”, she said with a smile and walking to her patrol car. He began to start the car but stopped; Erik look back at her about to get in then he hopped out, jogging to her. “Hey, Officer Y/L/N.”

She looked up to him and even though she was a solid 5’6, he was a giant compared to her. She got a better view of his physique. “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

“Just call me Erik.”

“Can I help ya, Erik?”

He folded his arms and said “why a sista like you a cop anyways? Especially with all the shit happenin’ between our people and y’all?” She looked around with one eye shut then looked at him up and down with both eyes. “Well, that’s a long story and besides, I gotta head back to the station. It’s time to clock out.”

“What ya doing after work? Maybe we can meet up and you can tell me the ‘long story’.” Officer Y/L/N shook her head and said “can’t. I have to be home to get ready for a family event tomorrow.”

“Well, how ya gonna tell me the story then?”

“Strike two. One more and I’ll write ya a ticket”. He rose his brow and said “ya ain’t gonna write me a ticket.” She lifted up her pad and clicked her pen as she looked at him writing. He looked at her in disbelief and watched as she ripped the ticket off folded in hand, and took the carbon copy to place in her pocket. “Awe, farreal. Come on, Mrs. Officer.”

She opened her car door and said “I warned ya. Have a good night, Mr. Stevens” with a smile and drove off looking in the rear view mirror. Erik walked to his car door and was about to rip the ticket when he noticed something. There was no total but instead he read “310 555 7289, Meet at the Santa Monica Pier next Saturday. -Mrs. Officer”. He looked up to see her patrol car driving off into the distance and he couldn’t help but to smirk.

* 𝕋𝔸𝔾𝔾𝔼𝔻 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊 *

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife@youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme@fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger @cherrystainedlipsbaby

#Erik Stevens #erik stevens x reader #Erik killmonger x Reader #n'jadaka udaku #n'jadaka #n'jadaka x reader #N'Jadaka Udaka #artisticestheticreads #erik killmonger

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hollyhockash · 5 years ago

Text

The Broken Clock (full quest set)

[a quest set about dealing with the depression associated with enormous guilt, and self-sabotaging in the process] [full Emptiness, Binding, and Shepherd arcs, but see description for significant caveats]

So. The premise of Glitch is that you are a Strategist retired from the Valde Bellum, the Excrucian War, and you're trying to make a life based on something, anything, else. But you were probably fighting said War, once, and if you were, you almost certainly did horrific things. I decided to tear open this subtext and make it text.

Glitch has quest sets, and their broad structure is similar to that in Chuubo's. There are, however, subtle differences in structure. So while you could probably lever a Chuubo's quest set into Glitch or vice versa, I thought it would be worth it to specifically write a set for this particular version of the system.

Also, the entire quest set is going to be in this post, because cutting it apart for posting seems pretty pointless.

The quests go as follows:

The Void Inside (20/35 XP) (Emptiness 1, Bindings 1, Shepherd 5)

The Past Rises (20/35 XP) (Emptiness 2, Bindings 2, Shepherd 2)

It Already Happened (30/45 XP) (Emptiness 3, Bindings 5, Shepherd 1)

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? (35/50 XP) (Emptiness 4, Bindings 3, Shepherd 4)

Instructions For Reassembly (20/30 XP) (Emptiness 5, Bindings 4, Shepherd 3)

Note that this quest set is about depression and self-sabotage/self-harm.

It is probably incredibly obvious that I am writing this from underneath an episode of crippling depression. I think this is a feature, not a bug.

This quest set takes cues from the True Lab sequence in Undertale, and the We Must Be Killers: Tales from District 2 fanfic series by lorata.

Do you know why Replay Value returns again and again to the topic of moral injury, of being forced to break or kill other people in order to survive, and trying to live with that fact? It’s not because of, as I thought at the time, the fact that the morality dimension of combat PTSD is underrepresented in fiction. It’s because -

There is just enough true horror I did that I cannot wholesale dismiss the guilt as brain lies. I was coerced to do these things under circumstances that nobody would consider me culpable, I wasn’t given a choice and was too terrified to disobey, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Even now, knowing full well that I am an adult and can just leave if this is visited upon me again, I am terrified that should someone ask me to do this again, I would buckle and fold.

...So it’s easier for me to think in terms of “terrible people should still be allowed recovery” than “I am not a terrible person.”

Arc Notes

Emptiness

The original, canonical order of the quest set.

The Void Inside - you’re trying to live a normal life and avoid any contact with the things in your past

The Past Rises - evidence piles up that no, this isn’t going to go away

It Already Happened - depression rises and swallows you whole

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? - you fight halfheartedly against some enemies because, unconsciously, you kind of want them to win

Instructions For Reassembly - you try to fix things

The thing about Emptiness is that there’s not really any more “cracking under the strain” that you can even do, anymore; far, far worse has already been visited on you. And so Emptiness 3 instead ends with you remembering something important you’d forgotten, and making a decision on how to deal with it.

Someone once asked what the point of being on a silver arc even is, because it doesn't involve "progressing" or "improving" in any visible fashion. I didn't have an answer then. I have an answer now. Emptiness arcs are the story of how you don't commit suicide. I suspect that the answer could be something less bleak, but right now that's all I have.

Bindings

The Void Inside - you’re struggling with whether you can ever live in normal society again, and it turns out that the answer is “no”

The Past Rises - you stop trying to push away your history, and try to engage with it; it’s terrifying to even face down the shape of things, but you have to know the scope of the problem before you can even try to fix it

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? - you’re being pursued by people who are trying to take revenge, and you think that if you let them succeed, maybe that’ll fix everything. Fortunately or unfortunately, they realize what you’re doing, and give up before you do.

Instructions For Reassembly - you decide that reparations are a thing you are going to have to do yourself, the hard way

It Already Happened - you are hit by the full force and scale of how much you once did, and realize that no amount of work on your part will make everything right

Bindings arcs are at least broadly similar to their Chuubo's counterparts. So there’s not much more for me to say.

Shepherd

It Already Happened - your life is a haze of gray helplessness

The Past Rises - some specific guilt manages to break out from underneath the depression

Instructions For Reassembly - you try to make up for what you’ve broken. You make it up to some people, but not enough.

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? - you put up a halfhearted fight

The Void Inside - you reach a new equilibrium, which is still depressed but at least slightly more functional

This is where the largest divergence from Chuubo’s arcs shows up. Shepherd 3 doesn’t end with you managing to put an old thing to rest. It ends with you nearly fixing things... only for that hope to be snatched away from under you.

The Void Inside (20/35 XP) (Emptiness 1, Bindings 1, Shepherd 5)

You try to be good. You do your best to be polite. You attempt to keep up with your bills and your laundry. And you try not to use your miraculous nature to facilitate this, because your powers only ever make things worse.

You're not an enemy of the world. So you won't do any more enemy-of-the-world things. Keep telling yourself that and it’ll work eventually, right?

...Right?

The Void Inside (35 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

a supernatural event gets in the way of you going to some sort of scheduled appointment

you pass out from exhaustion while trying to do an entirely ordinary thing (like standing in line at the DMV)

you leak your Bane/Curse out onto innocent people

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

tell someone that you don't need help even though you clearly do

drink lukewarm coffee

accidentally superglue yourself to something you were trying to fix

lie down with your face in a pillow

leave a note to someone else on the floor

try to pick up something far too heavy, or unwieldy, for one person to carry (like an enormous basket or a towering pile of books)

take painkillers

The Void Inside (simplified) (20 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

not doing some maintenance task that you kept putting off (cleaning the gutters, getting the car’s oil changed, etc.) leads to an entirely predictable disaster

you leak your Bane/Curse out onto innocent people

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

tell someone that you don't need help even though you clearly do

feed coins into a jammed vending machine

pick burrs/seeds off your clothing

stand in an empty elevator

The Past Rises (25/35 XP) (Emptiness 2, Bindings 2, Shepherd 2)

The remnants of your past intrude upon your life. Memories. Dreams. Glimpses in reflections. Physical reminders, maybe. And everyone can tell that something has gone terribly wrong. But you should be above this. You should be better than this.

They say the girl who had no feet could smile because she was luckier than someone who had no legs. And you keep asking yourself: why can’t you do that?

The Past Rises (35 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

someone shows up at your Sanctuary and forcibly drags you out of it

you panic and delete all the evidence of a problem rather than trying to solve it

one of your Treasures or Arcana visits you without notice, bearing a gift you didn’t ask for

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

try to drink from a glass of water that's already empty

listen to several voicemails and then don’t respond to any of them

are out of lotion, chapstick, or sunscreen

wake up with a piece of paper clutched in your hand

find wood that is too damp to burn

have a nightmare about hurting someone or something you care about

open a package or bag, only for the contents to spill and scatter everywhere

The Past Rises (simplified) (25 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

you are ill with a stomach flu, or a similar transient but extremely unpleasant condition

you open a container and find something completely different than the label said it had, usually something dangerous (i.e. a coffee can turns out to have a scorpion in it)

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

don't realize you're crying until somebody tells you

argue with a hallucination

repeatedly write and scribble out the same exact sentence

have a nightmare about hurting someone or something you care about

open a package or bag, only for the contents to spill and scatter everywhere

It Already Happened (30/45 XP) (Emptiness 3, Bindings 5, Shepherd 1)

You accept it now. You were a horror. You are a horror. The stain will never, ever wash out; the specter of the past crushes you underneath its weight. You wander blank-eyed through life. You can’t even cry anymore: that’s gone, too.

Nobody can save you, because you don’t let them. Because this is what you deserve.

It Already Happened (45 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

someone yells at you, and you accept it silently

you accidentally cut yourself and then stare at the blood welling up

you spend days in bed, too exhausted or depressed to get up

you descend into Infection State while alone

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

burn a candle all the way down to the stub

sit in a silent, dark room

shove a care package into the corner, unopened

run a finger over your scars, or other remnants of old injuries

eat instant noodles dry from the package

wander in a daze

throw something into an already overflowing trash can or dumpster

don't even try to leave for an appointment

It Already Happened (Simplified) (30 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

you visit a waterfall

you stick your hand into something that will obviously hurt you (like a bonfire, dry ice, or some sort of caustic chemical)

you descend into Infection State while alone

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

take pills that someone else presses into your hand, without looking at them or asking what they are

stand at a bus stop or train station, as buses and/or trains pass by without you

stare blankly at a huge stack of something

eat instant noodles dry from the package

suffer insomnia

try to read a book but can’t focus on the words

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? (35/50 XP) (Emptiness 4, Bindings 3, Shepherd 4)

The people you once wronged are here again. They (at least initially) want to beat you up. You, unfortunately, also want to beat yourself up. How long will it be until they, or you, realize that you're just using them as an instrument of self-harm?

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? (50 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

you let a pursuer catch up to you

you don't defend yourself against a crippling strike

you share a poisoned drink

someone who ought to be your enemy shows you unexpected kindness

an ally or friend tracks you down in some alien place and, angrily, asks you: what the hell were you thinking?

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

attack someone who should be on your side

sit with your back pressed up against a locked door

look around a bedroom or hotel room that is unfamiliar to you

are careless with a blade or scissors

receive a bouquet from someone you don't like and/or are afraid of

load and/or sharpen a weapon

hold paper to a flame and watch it burn

use antiseptic that burns and stings on a wound

hold a symbol or representation of your Bane in your hands

Whose Knife Is It Anyway? (simplified) (35 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

a blade is held against your throat

someone removes your heart, or something that could be reasonably defined as your heart, while you can't or don't object

someone who ought to be your enemy shows you unexpected kindness

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

sit with your back pressed up against a locked door

throw something at the wall in frustration

use antiseptic that burns and stings on a wound

sleep somewhere uncomfortable or inconvenient

continue to chew gum that has gone completely flavorless

pour water onto the ground

ignore and walk away from someone you recognize

Instructions For Reassembly (20/35 XP) (Emptiness 5, Bindings 4, Shepherd 3)

You try to fix what you broke. Or, at least, make reparations. It's not going to fix everything. But you do what you can.

Instructions For Reassembly (30 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

you deactivate some sort of security system

a Power visits you and gives you a task to complete

another Chancery member agrees with you that you are a monster, because everyone here is, and it is strangely comforting

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

suddenly find an ordinary thing inexplicably hilarious and start laughing helplessly

contemplate a bottle of medicine

look through a window at flowers outside

take out the trash

rake or sweep debris into a small pile in the corner

take a walk through a neighborhood you’ve never seen before

Instructions For Reassembly (simplified) (20 XP)

Major goals (5 XP each):

you visit someone whose life you saved

another Chancery member agrees with you that you are a monster, because everyone here is, and it is strangely comforting

Quest flavor (1 XP for yourself and 1 XP for the quest each):

bandage yourself

dump ashes into water

eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

take out the trash

#glitchrpg #quest set #glitch emptiness #glitch bindings #glitch shepherd #self-harm cw #brass hooks

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 72

Chapter Summary - After everything at the Golden Globes, Tom decides to rush back to England, away from the paparazzi and the spotlight, he wants his home, his family, his Elle.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom sat into the cab and gave the driver the directions. He had rescheduled his flight home so to get away from everything quicker, not wanting to deal with LA anymore, only wanting to go to the house, get Danielle and head to Suffolk for a few days, away from everything. He thought to text ahead, but she would insist on being there for him, and in truth, he wanted to be the one to startle her and see her smile, he needed to see her face light up as she realised he was home.

He paid the cab driver and got out his luggage before heading to the door and when he didn't see Mac at the window, he knew that Danielle was not there, so rushing inside, he brought his bag and a little gift he had gotten her and quickly made his way upstairs. He was unsurprised to see clean clothes on the bed, as she always did when she planned on having a shower on her return, a little detail that made him smile about Danielle, her little routine and ticks that she seemed to love fulfilling before a day was right, same as any other. When a bark came from the garden, he frowned, looking out the bedroom window, he was surprised to see Mac in the back garden harassing a bird, meaning that Danielle had not taken him with her, and also not telling Tom how long she would be. He did not let that thwart his plan and immediately set about putting his luggage away and placing everything that had to go for a wash in the laundry pile.

Part of him wanted to get a shower, but that could lead to a terrible ruining of his surprise if Danielle came home while he was in there and thought there was someone in their home and called the police. As hilarious as that sounded in theory, the reality was far more complicated. So he finished everything and headed back downstairs. He had just made himself some tea and raided the cupboard, since there was a fresh pack of HobNobs bought, he assumed for his return, when he heard the door open. He waited silently for a moment.

"Yes, I know, it is great, isn't it? I mean it's good for the price for this part of town." He frowned as he listened to Danielle talking, wondering who it was she was speaking to about such a matter. "I'm not sure, the house is hard to date, but there are a few places that would suit it maybe, I dunno, I'll talk to Tom when he gets back. I didn't bring it because I mean, how presumptuous is that. 'Hi Tom, listen, you know that really ugly painting in the hall, would you mind if I'…OH FUCKING CHRIST!!!!" Tom stood, arms folded, his tongue between his teeth as he smiled at her. "You bastard, you filthy, English, smug bastard, I am going to kill you." Danielle shrieked as she tried to stop hyperventilating, Tom, on the other hand, was laughing. "You prick."

He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, "Surprise."

"Sophie, I will call you later from the police station after I murder this asshole," Danielle stated before saying goodbye, as well as being given out to for her extensive use of expletives before finally hanging up. "How?"

"I wanted to come home," Tom answered.

"Why didn't you call?"

"I wanted to surprise you." He kissed the top of her head. "I wanted to come home to you."

Danielle dropped everything but her phone, which she tossed onto the counter and put her arms around his waist and inhaled deeply. "I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you."

"I doubt it." he looked down at her sadly. "So what is it you want to replace my 'ugly painting' with?"

"Not now." She pulled him to her again. "Later."

Tom looked as somehow, his fiery Irish woman made herself so small curled in against him, as though they had been separated for more than just a week. "Elle?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking."

"Suffolk?"

"Suffolk."

"Tonight or tomorrow?"

"When suits you?"

"How fast can you pack? I'll drive." She smiled, pulling away from him and looking at him, noticing for the first time the worn-out look on his face. "I wish I knew you were coming."

"Why?"

"I just feel like I should have your favourite food ready."

"If we get a quick bite now, we can make the chipper at a reasonable time." He suggested.

"I will get us something, you start packing."

"We'll take the Jag."

"We'll take my car." She insisted. "You are tired and I am not driving that thing."

"You will have to sooner or later."

"No, I do not."

He kissed her head again. "I love you so much, Elle." There was a small hint of sadness in his voice.

Danielle pulled back from him. "Do not let them take this from you, Tom, they did it to Ben too, remember, he is old news, it is your turn now, and wait and see, they will get bored, and someone else will be the one they hone in on. We only need to weather this for now. But do not let them take this from you, a Golden Globe, that is so big." She smiled proudly.

He smiled down at her. "I do not deserve you."

"Likewise, now, I am going to get us something to eat and you are going to pack." She ordered. "But first, can I see it?" She asked excitedly.

Tom smiled and took Danielle's hand in his, leading her up the stairs to his study, where he kept his awards, there, in the middle of them, was his newest accolade.

"I am so happy for you." She smiled, looking at it, his name shining on the gold plate. "You earned it."

"Thank you, darling. I am so glad I get to share this with you."

"I wish I was brave enough to be there." She sighed before looking to him again, "Maybe in the future."

"Maybe." He pulled her to him again. "So, about this painting?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does if you are moaning about it to Sophie on the phone." He argued. "What do you want to put there?"

"Nothing."

"And what were you talking about for good prices around here?" He prodded playfully.

"Oh, I didn't tell you, I am blind." He frowned. "I went to the optician because my eyes have been very irritated and annoying recently, and well, I have to get glasses." She explained.

"You're getting old." Tom joked, moving away before she could elbow him. "I am sure you will look as beautiful as usual with them."

"We'll see, I picked out the frames there, they will be ready next week."

"And what about the painting?"

"Nevermind."

"Elle."

"I wanted to ask if we could change it."

"For what daring?" He asked, elated that he had worn her down to telling him.

"My parents' clock." He stood staring at her. "The old one that was my granddads."

"You...you want to bring that here?"

"I was looking at it the other day in Suffolk, and I really miss it. My dad left it to me because he wanted me to have that to remind me of granddad. I mean, everything was mine anyway, but it is tradition to allow people take a memento when someone dies at home, but that, that was specifically left to me in the will, not having it in my home, it feels wrong." She explained, her voice almost one of pleading.

"Elle," Tom walked over to her, his chest swelling as he did, tears in his eyes, "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Bringing my clock here, if you hate the painting so much why not take it down."

Tom chuckled. "You get sarcastic when you are avoiding emotional stuff."

"I was hoping you hadn't noticed."

"I have, it’s not that, it is that you want to make this place your home, share something so precious to you with me," he explained. "When you called it home when you were with Nacelle and Becky, it made me so happy, but this, personalising it with something so precious to you, I cannot tell you how happy I feel hearing you say that."

"You are nauseatingly romantically." Danielle smiled. "I told you before Tom, I want this, us, I love you, and I really want a life with your egotistical ass."

Tom chuckled, "I was getting worried, you were getting nauseatingly romantic there for a moment yourself."

"Can’t have that now, can we?" She leant up and kissed him. "You pack, I'll prep the food."

"Yes, Ma'am."

They had barely thrown their belongings into Danielle's house before they rushed out the door again to get food. Diana, they had found out, was gone out for the evening, so they did not go to hers.

The next morning, they rested in bed, still half-dressed as both had crashed exhausted, Tom from jetlag, Danielle from getting her projects done. Tom smiled lazily as he toyed with Danielle's bracelet from Emma which was on his chest close to her head. "I got you something in LA."

"What? Why?"

"Why not?"

But I didn't get you anything."

"You were at the other end of the phone when I needed you."

"But not by your side, where you needed me more."

"Elle," He warned. "someday. So, do you want to see it?" She nodded enthusiastically. Tom turned and reached into his pants pocket and pulled out something. "I say it and thought of you," He stated as he dangled it for her to see.

Danielle squinted her eyes slightly to look at the object in front of her before smiling. "Tom," she reached up and took it. "You shouldn't have."

"I want to treat you from time to time." He smiled. "Do you want me to help you put it on?" She extended her arm to him. "Without knocking me out." he chuckled as he took it again and put it on. "It suits."

Danielle looked at it and her grin grew, "Thank you." She leant over and kissed him. "It's perfect."

"It's just a little trinket." Tom dismissed. "But that's the thing with you, isn't it. The thought, not the price."

"I don't like expensive things, I feel like they are an obligation." She explained.

"I know," He placed her hair behind her ear lovingly. "I am so lucky with you, the amount of men that have women that expect diamonds and gold, all you want is someone who enjoys talking to you and I am so scared that everyone else will realise that and you will realise that behind everything I try to not show, I am not worthy of someone so…"

Annoyed at his self-deprecation, Danielle kissed Tom to cease his talking. "No one is perfect, no one. I love you, as you are, your flaws are part of you. I am flawed too, we all are. I don't want anyone else, Tom. I want you, only you. You have no idea how happy I am with you, or how much I feel I have lucked out by getting to be with you. I see these gorgeous women who are not only gorgeous but really intelligent too, and I do not think I can compete with them." He looked at her sadly. "But you always rubbish those ideas, so I am telling you the same, I don't want anyone else, I want you." She smiled as Tom kissed her again. "You're still tired, get some more rest love."

"But I haven't looked after you since I came back." He moaned sleepily.

"I think I can live until we are both less tired," Danielle laughed. "Get some sleep."

"I will if you curl up where you were again." He bargained.

Slinking down to have her head on his shoulder again, Danielle got comfortable very quickly, taking in Tom's natural smell again as she began to drift off again. Tom leaning in to smell her strawberry shampoo as he too began to fall back to sleep.

"Mum." Tom grinned happily as his mother squeezed him tightly against her. "How are you?"

"I am so proud of you sweetheart." Diana beamed at her son. "I cannot tell you how much so."

"Thanks, mum."

"You said you were home on Sunday?"

"I wanted to get home, I wanted to see you, the girls, Elle." he smiled looking for Danielle. "Where is she?"

"Making the tea." Came to a call from the kitchen. Tom looked towards the other room fondly.

"You are so happy." Tom looked down at his far short mother. "I know what they are saying hurts, but yet, you smile like you do."

"Elle, she…" He smiled more.

"You love her so greatly." Diana smiled fondly.

"She wants to bring her clock to London, her grandfather's one," Tom admitted. "To our home."

Diana's eyebrows rose. "I don't know what to say to that." Tom looked at her worriedly. "There are no words that convey my happiness for you, my darling boy."

"So, am I banished to the kitchen or is Tom on the naughty step or something?" Danielle queried as she stuck her head around the door, a bright smile on her face.

"Coming now Darling, just had to give this one a bit of a talking to."

"Hey, he is a Golden Globe actor, you can't be mean to him." Danielle scolded.

"I was referring to his self-punishment over…"

"Oh, that, give out about that." Danielle agreed as she put the pot of tea and the cake she brought on the table for them before sitting down next to Tom, who actively moved his chair closer to hers and smiled adoringly at her as she told his mother, minus the swearing, of how he came home early from America.

"You added a trinket to your bracelet," Diana noted.

"I did, Tom got it for me." Danielle showed it to the older woman.

"That means something back home, doesn't it?"

"The harp is the national symbol of Ireland," Danielle confirmed. "It's home in that it is where I am from, you know? But at the same time, I am building a home here too."

"Well, that was the point of choosing it for you, I knew it meant a lot in Ireland, especially when I was there for High-Rise, though I was worried it was just the symbol for Guinness," Tom smiled affectionately.

"The Guinness harp is the other way around, but yes, it is the symbol for that too," Danielle confirmed.

"Why do you know these things?" Tom asked.

Danielle merely shrugged. "Dunno, it's weird what we remember when we care about something." Tom frowned at the playful smile on her face as she said those words, wondering what it was she was implying.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 72 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

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lovely-angst · 6 years ago

Text

your sadness; your praise

Staring at you from his bed, the textbook in his lap was no longer being read as Bakugou averted his attention towards you instead. Humming softly to yourself, you were on the floor of his room folding his laundry as you also organized the clothes in his closet.

You had asked if you could come over to hang out with him only to have him reply with an, “I’m busy studying so I won’t give you any attention, but come over if you want,” and so that’s why you were currently doing his laundry.

“Hmm, how should I do this? I think I’ll hang it up? Yeah, that way there will be no wrinkles,” you said to yourself softly as you gently inserted a coat hanger onto the item clothing. “How cute, it’s been a while since he’s worn this.”

Bakugou’s full attention was on you as you occupied yourself with his clothing and he would be lying if he didn’t think it was cute. You looked so happy doing something so small and simple.

When he thinks about it, you were so goofy and silly and loud. Short-circuited, clumsy but unafraid of the world; Bakugou liked that about you.

“And that’s the last shirt!” You exclaimed as you hung up the last hanger, taking a step back to admire your work. “I think it looks good, I did a good job.”

Hearing Bakugou’s textbook shut behind you, you turned around to find him staring at you before his eyes glance toward his newly organized closet and fresh laundry.

“It looks good,” Bakugou complimented, “You did a good job.”

Your eyes lit up and your face flushed with a shy but cheeky smile, “Really? I’m really glad,” you say flustered, your smile growing with each second.

It was something so small, but Bakugou seemed to notice it.

You got so happy whenever he complimented or praised your work, no matter how many times you praised and complimented others. Your smile made his heart skip a beat and he found himself studying you a little more.

As Bakugou walked towards the school gate at the end of the day, he stopped to admire how nice you looked with the sunset hitting your cheeks and hair. You were watching some birds on the sidewalk curiously. Bakugou smiled with the roll of his eyes, you would be intrigued by some random birds walking around.

“Katsuki! Come on let’s get going!” You chirped as you focused your attention on the male walking towards you. “I can’t wait for you to try my home cooked meal. I’ll make it extra good so that you can have the energy to do the hero training you were talking about.”

The whole walk to your house, you continued to tell Bakugou’s stories. He didn’t mind the stories, in fact, he liked it when you talked to him, he liked hearing your stories even if he looked annoyed on the outside.

“Do you ever just walk in silence?” He asked in tone rougher than he had meant for. Your eyes widened slightly and you stopped mid-sentence before you smiled at him and looked to the ground in shame. “Sorry, I’ve been talking too much.”

‘Damn it, I made her sad.’ He didn’t mean for you to stop talking, he didn’t think you were annoying, he was just curious if you always told stories.

“Hey, I didn’t mean for you to stop talking about whatever it was you were talking about,” Bakugou starts but you shake your head, “No, it’s okay. People usually stop listening to my stories halfway through anyway, I’m used to it.” You say with a sad smile and now Bakugou felt like shit.

“But it’s okay because we’re almost home! Come on!” You take his hand and quickly drag him around the corner to your house before walking inside. “I’m home!” You exclaimed as you set your bags down and offered Bakugou a place at the kitchen table.

“I’ll get started right away! I don’t want to keep you hungry,” you state as you hand him a cup of water before you rush around the kitchen trying to get everything prepared.

As the hour passed by, Bakugou watched as you put your heart into making him a meal. You looked invested into what you were making and sometimes you would smile at what you were proud of. Sometimes Bakugou found himself chuckling at your little mistakes that got you scolding him, but that’s just what he loves about you.

“Here you go, eat up!” You say happily as you slide a plate of spicy tonkatsu curry towards him. “I’ve made it once before in the past, but I hope I could do this one justice for you! I also made it a little spicier because I know you like spicy foods!” You chuckle as you took a seat infront of him.

“(Name)! Your mother called from the other room, “Yes?” You called out as Bakugou took a scoop of the curry and rice into his mouth,‘It’s great’.

“I’ll be back, don’t wait for me okay?” And with that, you stood up and disappeared from his sight. Bakugou felt a little lonely eating the meal alone in silence but the thought that you made this meal for him made him feel a little better.

After a couple minutes, Bakugou could hear muffled yelling through the walls and he could tell it wasn’t your voice. Clenching his teeth, he got up and walked over toward the room, standing by the bathroom as an excuse in case someone walked out of the room.

“You’re so clueless! There’s really nothing in that brain of yours, that’s why you forget everything I tell you, honestly,” your mother sighs heavily after the scolding. “How many times do I have to tell you?” Your mother once again goes over the list of chores with specific directions.

Hearing someone walk toward the door, Bakugou hurried to shut the bathroom door and pretend to wash his hands as he hears your footsteps walk over to the kitchen. After what seemed like a long minute, Bakugou walks out of the bathroom quietly and when he sees you wipe away small tears, he feels his heartbreaking once more.

“Oh, Katsuki! Are you done with the food?” You question, changing your expression for him. “Yeah, thanks. It was good.” Your face lightens up and you give him the sweetest of smiles, “Really? I guess my hard work paid off!”

There it was again. That smile whenever you got praised.

The two of you washed the dishes together in a comfortable silence, but he wondered why you didn’t take that opportunity to tell him another story. Looking at the clock, you squeaked before grabbing your sweater.

“It’s getting dark, let me walk you to the station,” you start but Bakugou shakes his head, “No, I can walk by myself. You stay here,” he starts, but freezes when you grab his arm firmly, “I want to walk with you.”

No way he can resist you saying that to him.

The walk to the station was rather silent. Sneaking glances towards you, you looked slightly lost and the grip of your hand in his was weak before your eyes refocused and you spoke up.

“One of the most hurtful thing I remember happening to me was during hero training,” you randomly start and Bakugou turns to glance at you, “I had worked extra hard, but because I was new to the hero course, I was struggling compared to the other students.”

“Even though I was struggling that day, I felt pretty good on the certain training we were learning. And when we had to work in teams, I was confident I could help out my teammates,” Bakugou listened quietly to your story as you explained it the best you could, struggling with wording your thoughts.

“A teammate and I locked eyes and I thought she was going to call out to me for help, she looked away and called on my other teammate instead. I felt really hurt because I knew I could’ve helped. I was unsure if the outcome would’ve been positive if I helped, but really thought that was my chance.” You furrowed your brows sadly and slowed your walking to a stop.

“They didn’t trust in me and it still hurts me to this day.”

Bakugou stared at you quietly as your lips trembled and you squeezed his hand tightly. There was something you were holding alone deep inside of you that you couldn’t tell, but it was hurting you.

“Why am I so stupid, Katsuki?” You ask, your head raised and your eyes finally meeting his. Tears fogged your vision as you choked back a sob, “I’m so weak and annoying and I can never do anything right can I?”

“I’m always messing things up for people and I can never shut my mouth,” You confess as you bring your arms up to cover your eyes as you bawled in the middle of the street. “I'm never going to do great things, I’m just a screw-up!”

Bakugou really wanted to comfort you. He wanted to hold you in his arms and tell you everything you are and how you’re nothing short of amazing, but all he could do was watch you cry.

His body froze as you spilled every emotion and everything you held back. There was more to you than his happy-go-lucky little girlfriend; you had your own problems that you were dealing with alone. You felt alone.

Slowly, he reached out to you and pulled you against his chest, wrapping his strong and warm arms over you as he rubbed your back as you cried in his chest. “I may not be able to do much for you, but I’m always listening,” Bakugou says quietly, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

After a few minutes, you quiet down and he feels you relaxing against him. “Is this because your mom yelled at you?” He asked and you flinched, “You heard?” You let out a small sigh, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all emotional on you like that.”

“Is that why you get all happy whenever I praise you?” Bakugou asks and you look up at him confused. “I’ve started noticing how happy you’ve been getting whenever I praise you for the small things. You just look so damn happy when I acknowledge your hard work even if it’s just your hair growing.”

“I am pretty happy my hair is growing,” You chirp and Bakugou smiles, “See? Like that,” Your eyes hold his gaze and the smile stays on your lips. “It’s pretty fucking cute when I see you excited over the praise I give you,” he whispers over your lips before sneaking in a small kiss.

“I don’t get much praise, so it feels good when I know I’m doing something right rather than being scolded for doing something wrong,” you confess as you lean into his body more. “It makes me feel like I am doing good.”

Your eyes sparkled like stars and your cheeks glowed a beautiful hue as you smiled up at him with those pretty pink lips of yours. You looked genuinely happy being right here in his arms and Bakugou felt proud he was able to make you happy like this.

This was his reward; your praise.

Bakugou couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he squeezed you, spinning you slightly. He was happy too, extremely happy. “You make me go fucking mad over you sometimes,” he confesses as he sets you down, “But I’m all up for it.”

You giggle before tiptoeing closer to him, “Me too.”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #katsuki bakugou scenarios #bakugou katsuki scenario #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki scenarios #katsuki #katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou scenario #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia scenarios #mha #my hero academia

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hymn2000 · 5 years ago

Text

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C13

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, mentions of corporal punishment, hurt/comfort

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 13 - Young Man’s Blues

Peter took advantage of his healthy bank account and finally splashed out on something big. He was up early, checking up on the tracking app, sitting at the bottom of the stairs to make sure he got the door before his parents did. Sure, Tony had always said he could spend his money on whatever he wanted (within reason and legality), but he still had a feeling they’d both have something to say about what he’d ordered - and not necessarily something good.

“Uh, what’s going on here?!”

Peter jumped. He hadn’t realised Tony had been in the lab all this time.

“...Just taking a delivery” Peter said, signing the form and letting the delivery men go.

He closed the front door and turned to his father.

“Anyway, good morning”

“Do you not think that maybe you should have consulted me before buying something like this?”

“Well, it was a special deal - next day delivery. And anyway, you're always saying my money is mine to spend”

“Well, yes, but-”

“I’ll send it back if you want me to”

“No, no. That’s not necessary” Tony looked at the black Yamaha upright piano. “How much did it cost?”

“...Just shy of seven thousand dollars”

“Oh, nice. Why didn’t you get a grand piano?”

“Because they were like, forty-five thousand dollars! This was expensive enough. And anyway, this one will be easier to fit somewhere. I mean, maybe if I had a music room, I’d’ve got a bigger one”

“Are you hinting?”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not a big musician. I just fancied one of these. It was cool playing it the other day, like, while I was away? I’d only ever played at school. So... Can I keep it?”

“Of course you can! Look, that video your father sent me was great, and it’s plain to see that you’re a real talent. Where are you going to put it?”

“Well, there’s room here, by the stairs” Peter said, gesturing to the cabinet under the banister. “Well, if we moved that”

“No, leave it! Don’t go moving furniture” Tony sighed. “Maybe you should move it upstairs, kiddo. Up in the corridor or something”

“Ok. Can you give me a hand?”

“No way; I’m not juggling a piano. Why don’t you get your father?”

“I think he’s still asleep”

“He’s in the laundry room”

“Oh. Ok, I’ll... Wait, dad?”

“Mm?”

“You still love me, right?”

Tony sighed irritably. “Don’t ask silly questions, Peter”

“Can we talk later? Properly?”

“I thought you were getting your father?”

Peter sighed heavily and went off to get Loki. He supposed talking to Tony would have to wait.

Moving a piano wasn’t too much of a strain for a god and an enhanced teenager to manage. They found a good spot for it in the corridor outside the back room. It was a wide enough corridor for it to fit comfortably, with plenty of room to spare for anyone passing. Once it was positioned, Loki lifted the fall board and tapped a few keys.

“Well, this is your forte” he said. “I’ll leave you to sort the rest of it”

“Hey, daddy?”

“What?”

“Are you and dad fighting?”

“Why would you say that?”

“I need to know”

Loki sighed. “No, we’re not fighting. We’re just not each others biggest fans right now. Or, at least, I’m not his. Set your piano up and mind your own business”

Peter scowled at his fathers back, but sighed and looked at his piano. It was even prettier in person than it had been on the listing. It was so sleek and perfect and professional-looking - so much so, that he felt like he shouldn’t touch it, let alone play it. It was very much something to be treated with respect, he thought. Something decorative... But he’d bought it to play. Although... Well, maybe he should test it out...

“He was your responsibility - you should have talked some sense into him”

“I didn’t know he was buying a piano, did I? And so what? You said yourself that he’s talented”

“That doesn’t mean he can just do as he pleases!”

“Anthony, you’re always whining about him having money anxiety. He’s just splashed some cash - see it as progress. At least he’s spent it on something useful and sensible”

“You’re deliberately missing my point”

“You don’t have a point:- you’re just kicking off for no reason. Leave the kid alone. Sort out your own problems before taking it out on him”

“I’m not taking it out on him! Anyway, what if he never uses it? He’s already given up the lab, and he’s been trying to give up swimming for ages! Not to mention that steep downwards spiral in Spiderman activity.”

“He gave up the lab because he was majorly depressed and traumatised, remember? Spiderman was much the same, and anyway, he still does that on at least a weekly basis. You can;t; whine about that, because you used to whine when he was out in his suit every day. It’s like he can’t win. And, he’s never enjoyed swim team, not really - although of course you never want to listen to him when he tries to tell you about that, do you?” Loki said scornfully. “Give him a break. He bought it for a reason, and he’s probably using it as we speak”

“We’ll see about that” Tony said, pushing past him.

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, trying to stay calm, and then followed him. Peter might need a bit of protection.

Peter could have heard Tony shouting from a mile off, so he stopped playing and turned round in his seat, folding his arms over his chest. Tony was visibly taken aback when he turned the corner and saw him there.

“...What?”

“I assume you’ve come to shout at me?”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that, which as a great relief for Peter.

“What time is Li Allen coming?” he asked quickly.

“What?” Tony looked at Loki. “Is that today?”

“Yes. One ‘o clock” Loki said. “Perhaps if you have a shower and something to eat you’ll feel a little less confrontational for when she gets here”

“Fine!” Tony said. “I’m going to my room then, if you’re going to be like that”

Peter waited until he heard the door slam, and then looked at Loki.

“I might be wrong, but I was under the impression that it was my job to kick off and slam doors”

“Don’t even think about it, chick” Loki sighed. “If he’s going to be like that, we need to pick up the slack. Li Allen has dealt with enough from us without all three of us kicking off”

Peter shrugged, turning back to the piano. “Well, until he shouts at me to stop the racket, I’m gonna be here”

“Have you had anything to eat today?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing. Come on; you need to eat”

“I’ll get something in a bit”

“No, you’ll get something now. That’s not a suggestion”

Peter sighed, and closed the fall board. There was enough tension in the house without him causing an argument with Loki.

Tony came in for something to eat just as Peter was finishing. He ran his hand through his wet hair, grumbling to himself. Loki made a comment, and Tony made a harsher one back. Within thirty seconds, they’d started arguing, and thirty seconds after that, it got serious. Peter carefully slipped out of the room, not that either of them noticed. His parents rarely argued properly, which just made it all that much worse when they did exchange cross words. He didn’t want to stick around to hear what they had to say. They could both be seriously nasty when they wanted to be.

Peter grabbed his MP3 and put his headphones over his ears so he couldn’t hear them. He went down to the back room, but stopped at the door, looking at the piano, which seemed to be the catalyst for the argument going on in the kitchen. He wanted to regret buying it, but he didn’t. He took his hand off the back room door handle and instead went and sat down at the piano. He lifted the fall board and ran his fingers over the keys gently, just enough to feel how cool and smooth they were. It felt good finally having one in the house. He was surprised, with Tony’s very public wealth, that there hadn’t been one in the house already. It seemed to be one of those things that every rich people had. Even Millie and Flo had a piano at home, and no one in either of their families knew how to play so much as three consecutive notes.

He set his MP3 on the edge of the piano, scrolling through to find a decent playlist. He let it play, and placed his hands on the piano keys and started to play, humming along at first, and then singing, softly, so that he could hardly hear himself over his playing, and the music in his headphones.

“Too late, to save myself from falling.. I took a chance, and changed your way of life.. But you misread, my meaning when I met you.. Closed the door, and left me blind, by the light..”

Peter could tell just from the way it felt how good the piano was. It seemed to make everything easier. Maybe he was clouded by bias, or pride, or just the situation which had led him to play, but everything flowed so well. “Don't let the sun go down on me. Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see.. I'd just allow a fragment of your life, to wander free... But losing everything, is like the sun going down on me”

Peter closed his eyes. He knew the keys well enough to do it without looking. It helped, too: it meant he was fully encased in the music, and everything else was blocked out. Soon enough, he forgot about his parents, about the shouting, about the tension, about the DNA test... “I can't find, ooh the right romantic line. But see me once, and see the way I feel. Don't discard me, just because you think I mean you harm. But these cuts I have, oh, they need love, to help them heal...”

With everything else blocked out, there was nothing to stop him. For a while he nearly forgot who he was. On the one hand, he could be Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, once orphaned, Spider-man, traumatised, ill, smart, but not living up to his true potential, suffering with selective mutism, prone to overreacting, not always sure who he was and how he felt. But, on the other hand, he could be someone else; someone who didn’t exist yet. An alter-ego, or perhaps a person - a personality - he could adopt. A mixture of great people, of great talent - someone ordinary, but with extraordinary skill and talent. He wasn’t - but at the same time, what was stopping him from being that? Or at least, just pretending he was...

So he kept singing. He kept playing. He had a safe playlist on, and he played whatever came on, regardless of how complex it was to play, or sing. He didn’t always get it right, but it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t hear properly, and even if he could, he felt great. He didn’t feel like him. He didn’t feel scared, worried about his parents, his parentage, his school and friends. He felt like someone else entirely, like... well, like he’d changed. Maybe he was someone else here. Who knows? And if he was, who was he to argue with that? Since May’s death, he hadn’t felt great all that often, and he was fully committed to taking full advantage of any time he did feel good. No questions asked.

Peter stopped abruptly. He hesitated, and then pushed his headphones down round his neck.

“...Hi”

“Hello, you” Li Allen said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump”

“It’s ok” Peter said. “Pausing my MP3 is far from being the worst way to get my attention”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other”

“A few months” Peter nodded, turning round on his seat. “I’ve kinda missed you, you know”

“That’s sweet” Li said, sitting down beside him. “We’ve known each other a long time now”

“I guess we’ve been through a lot together. Even if some of it was stuff you didn’t hear about until afterwards” he looked at her. “...I guess you’ve talked to my parents?”

“Yes”

“I guess you’ve been told?”

“Yes”

“What do you think about it?”

“Now, that’s what I should be asking you” Li said, putting an arm round his shoulders. “You had some impressive playing and singing going on just then, but your song choice gives a lot away”

“Well... You know, Macy once asked me to recommend some happy Elton John songs to her, and you know, to be honest, there isn’t all that many. There’s loads more sadder ones. And neutral ones, I guess. He’s emotional. So maybe it’s just coincidence”

“I don’t believe you for a second. I know you too well; I can tell when you’re spinning a story”

“Well, ok” Peter admitted. “I wasn’t lying about the Macy bit, though”

“I know. Now I think you need to answer my question”

Peter went quiet. He glanced back at the piano keys.

“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more comfortable?” Li suggested.

Peter took his headphones off and set them down carefully. “I’m ok here”

“Ok. Now, do you have anything to say to me? I can imagine how much of a shock this news was to you, and I can see the effect it’s having on your parents”

“I was thinking of you earlier, you know” Peter said. “About right back when we first met, and how I was, and how you had the same perfume as May, and how weak I was”

“You weren’t weak, Peter” Li said, gently. “Far from it. You were just very, very sad, and very sick”

“I feel sick if I think about it too much. But at least I’m not living it anymore. It was a horrible year. Finding out Tony Stark is my bio-dad is nothing compared to a lot of stuff I’ve been through”

“That doesn’t mean it hasn’t had an effect on you”

“Well, maybe, but I don’t know what that is yet, not really. I mean, he won’t even talk to me about it, so I don’t know how I’m supposed to figure it out. I mean, I know he’s not gonna remember my mother, but I didn’t expect him to. But that doesn’t mean he can’t answer some questions, you know? I mean, imagine if he’d always known about me. I’d’ve grown up in this huge house, and I’d’ve been at schools like St Hendricks my whole life, and I’d probably be a completely different person. If he’d stepped up, anyway”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, he’s not always been a family man. I know he was a right twat back in the day. Like, back when I was a really little kid, like, back before Iron Man and all that stuff. He’s still a bit of a twat now... He might have just told my mum that it was her problem, and refused to have anything to do with me” Peter said. “I mean, I’ve read the articles, and I’ve heard the stories, and I don’t know if I can imagine him in his playboy, parties, super-super-ego, look-how-great-I-am days being happy about having a kid. I mean, knowing what he was like, can you imagine him doing the honourable thing?”

“Parenthood can change people, whether the kid was planned or not. Sure, he might have run a mile, but there’s no guarantee. Maybe he’d have been given a shock, and wanted to step up. Maybe he’d have said he’d just pay for upkeep but having nothing to do with the baby, but then change his mind when you were born. It’s a reality we’re not living, so we’re never going to know. The important thing is; he stepped up for you, regardless. Now it turns out you’ve been flesh and blood all along. That’s got to be a shock to the system”

“You know, I think it would have been weird growing up famous. I mean, you remember when I got turned into a toddler, that whole Kindsprengen thing? I remember loads of that, and I remember it being scary when people crowded us in public and stuff”

“I think the hype of your story may have intensified that. But I see where you’re coming from. Still, you’ve been a celebrities son for a long time now”

“I sometimes wish I had someone to share it with. Like, if the IVF... If all that stuff had gone through, I’d’ve ended up with a sibling. Someone who understood and could share the whole thing with me, you know?”

“I can imagine it being strange and tough sometimes. Do you get lonely?”

“No, not really. I’ve started drifting off into my own little world a lot lately. And anyway, I’m friends with my parents, so that helps. If I didn’t get on with them, I guess I would feel lonely a lot more” he paused for a moment. “...I’m thinking of being a toddler now”

“The first time round?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t remember that. No, I mean the Kindsprengen thing. It’s funny how much I remember sometimes. I keep meaning to write it down, but I always get distracted after a few paragraphs... I kinda feel like I did then”

“In what way?”

“Well, at the start, it was just daddy Loki looking after me, because dad was all scared or in denial or whatever, and he wouldn’t have anything to do with me, and he wouldn’t talk to me or pay proper attention to me... I remember being so confused and upset about it... Anyway, he won’t talk to me properly now - not about what we actually need to talk about, anyway. Daddy’s been real good, mostly, but dad hasn’t, and he’s the one I need more right now. It’s the same kinda like, segregation, I guess”

“Do you think he’s in denial again now?”

“...I’m not sure. I think he’s trying to pretend none of this is happening, like, pretend that it hasn’t changed anything. How was he when you spoke to him?”

Li paused. “...Tense. Both of them were. Let’s just say I took the first chance to slip away to come to talk to you. I wanted to check you were ok”

“Are they arguing again?”

Li nodded. “I’m afraid so”

“They’ve been at it all day” Peter looked back at his headphones and MP3. “I think this set it off”

“What?”

“The piano” Peter said. “It arrived this morning. There was a mixed reaction. I bought it myself. I guess I just wanted one”

“How long have you been playing?”

“About eight months. I’ve been paying for lessons at school. I didn’t tell anyone, but I went away with daddy and his friend the other day, and there was a piano there and I started playing it, and daddy sent a video to dad, so they know now. I don’t know exactly what they thought. I think dad would be pretty angry if he knew I’d skipped swim practice a lot to do it. Not that it really matters, since I’m not at school right now”

“Your parents mentioned home schooling again today. How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t really care” Peter said. “Not right now, anyway”

“What do you care about right now?”

“My piano” Peter said. “It’s so pretty right? It feels great actually being able to practice at home now”

“How were you playing all those songs?” Li asked, glancing behind them. “You don’t have any books or chords there”

“I can’t read music. My teacher tried to teach me, but I just don’t get it, so I don’t really use sheet music” Peter said. “I just play it by ear”

“That’s incredible. Not many people can do it, especially not as well as I heard you doing it”

Peter shrugged. “Well, it’s just like singing along, but playing along. I know I was kinda doing both, but you know what I mean, right?”

“I understand, yes. I’m glad you’ve discovered a new skill. But I don’t understand why you’ve kept it to yourself for so long”

“I guess I was worried what people would say about it, and think about it. Especially dad. Because of missing swim practice and stuff. You know what he’s like about swim team”

“Perhaps, with everything being out in the open, you should tell him that you want to quit. You’ve been miserable in your competitive swimming for far too long”

“No way” Peter said. “I got spanked last time I told him I hated it and wanted to step down. Well, actually, we did have an argument too, which I guess didn’t help. That was a pretty long time ago, anyway, and he hasn’t spanked me since the whole Kindsprengen fiasco, and I’m not really in a rush to break that streak”

“I don’t blame you” Li sighed. “It’s sad that you can’t talk about it with him. What about Loki?”

“He gets it, but dad won’t listen to him, either. They’ve argued about it a few times. They’ve been arguing a lot more recently, so I’m not about to bring that up and risk them having another barney because of it”

“I noticed the tension even before they started arguing. I assumed it was because of the test results”

“I wish it was” Peter sighed. “I don’t know what’s been up with them, but they’ve kinda been locking horns a lot these last couple of months. They usually try to keep all that stuff from me, but I have a feeling dad just keeps winding daddy up. It might be on purpose”

“Why do you think it might be on purpose?”

Peter shrugged. “You know, it’s good they try to keep me out of all that kinda stuff, but there’s a bunch of stuff they do that give away if they’re cross with each other. Tell-tale signs, you know?”

“I see. Do you have any examples?”

Peter shrugged again. “Not really. It’s all kinda stuff you shouldn’t notice, but do, you know? Like, it’s all kinda little things... Hey, can I ask you, like, a theoretical question?”

“Shoot”

“What would happen to me if they split up? Like, would dad get me because he’s blood?”

“Loki and Tony adopted you, and regardless of the results of the paternity test, in the eyes of the law, they’re both equally responsible - they’re equal parents to you”

“So, what would happen?”

“It would be up to your parents, or the courts if they couldn’t come to an agreement” Li said. “But, sweetheart, I don’t think you should think about that. I can’t see your parents splitting up, even if they’re having a rocky patch”

“Yeah, I guess so. This is nowhere near as rocky as it was when I first met daddy Loki, and they got through that nightmare” Peter sighed. “It’s just weird when they’re not getting on properly. I think daddy’s pretty upset about all this, too”

“They’ll get through it, kiddo” Li said, giving him a little squeeze. “Maybe they just have a lot to get out of their systems... Is that why you’re hiding back here?”

“Yeah, I was blocking out the shouting. At least, I was at first, but then I just kinda got really into the music”

Li smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of escape. Now, do you want to come through to the living room, so all four of us can talk?”

Peter went quiet, listening hard. “...I think they’ve stopped arguing, so... I guess so. I’d rather stay here, though”

“There’s nothing stopping you coming back afterwards, but I do need to talk to you all as a family”

“I know, I get it” Peter sighed, standing up. “Well, may as well get it over with”

Tony and Loki seemed to have calmed down a bit, but Peter stayed on high alert anyway, just in case.

“I take it you haven’t done a press release yet?” Li said.

“It’s no one else’s business” Tony snapped. “Sorry. But it isn’t”

“People will find out sooner or later” Loki said.

“Not if no one tells them”

“You’ve told more people than I have” Loki pointed out.

“Barely!”

“You have! I only told Jo Jo. You told all your little superhero friends, and Pepper, and-”

“Ok, ok, point taken! That doesn’t mean we have to let the whole world know”

“I’ll just tweet about it if you like” Peter said. “Save you the hassle”

“Don’t be ridiculous! This is nothing to do with you”

“HOW is it nothing to do with me?! You’re my dad, remember? Biologically? That’s entirely about me!”

“Get out of here, Peter: this is a grown up conversation, and your arguments aren’t helping”

“But-”

“But nothing!” Tony shouted. “Do as you’re damn well told!”

“Tony, I really think-”

“No, it’s fine” Peter stood up, interrupting her. “I wouldn’t stay in here if you paid me! You can deny it and pretend it doesn’t matter all you want; I don’t care anyway! You never should’ve done the stupid test in the first place”

Peter slammed down at the piano. He didn’t know why it had made him so angry, but he felt like he was bubbling over. He thought Tony had turned a corner, but obviously he’d been wrong. He was glad he’d left though: he had a feeling he’d have ended up with a smack if he’d stayed and argued the point.

He lifted the fall board. He put his headphones over his ears and opened his MP3 player. He looked at the song waiting to play. By some wonderful coincidence, it was exactly what he wanted to listen to. And exactly what he needed to play.

“Your old man got mad when I told him we were leaving. He cursed and he raged and he swore at the ceiling. He called you his child, said honey, get wise to his game, he'll get you in trouble-”

As he played, and sang, Peter couldn’t help thinking it was funny that a song with absolutely no relation to his current situation could feel so relevant. So close. Like it was written for him, to listen to and delve into in this exact moment in his life. It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of it, as if it was just an extension of himself. He was aware of how his fingers were moving on the ivories, aware of how far he’d come since that first shaky lesson all those months ago. But it didn’t feel like an effort at all. “..Saw your hands trembling, your eyes opened in surprise. It's ninety in the shade babe and there ain't a cloud in the sky.. I called you my child, said honey, now this is our game. There's two of us to play it, and I'm happy to be home again...”

Maybe Peter didn’t care about what his parents thought, especially Tony. Not right now, anyway. They could shout and scream and argue and kick off as much as they wanted to. As long as he had a set of headphones, and he had his piano, he’d be able to while away the time and block it all out until everything got back to normal.

“..And it’s, all over now, don't you worry no more, we’re gonna go west to the sea.. The greyhound is swaying, and the radio’s playing, some blues for baby and me"

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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fauvester · 5 years ago

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thanks to @soundwavereporting for encouraging me to Write my Humankaiju Rodorah Truth

Rodan swam into the waking world way past when he usually got up for work. He had a moment of panic, thinking his alarm didn’t go off, but then he remembered – weekend, Saturday morning. He’d been out Friday night, a one-man celebration of finally getting his grades from his Master’s program back, finally.

Tasted sour. His mouth. Gross. He swallowed thickly and cracked his eyes open.

His studio was bleary and bright. Someone must have opened the shades; he had a new basement apartment and liked to keep them closed to deter anyone from looking in. Hey, he’d gone home from MI with someone, hadn’t he?

Oh, yeah. That explained it. He rubbed his eyes vigorously and squinted, looking up. The other side of his bed was empty, but from behind the hastily erected folding screen that separated it from the living area he could hear someone moving around.

Last night – he’d gotten the email after almost six months of negotiating with the Dean’s office while he was still at work, checking his phone waiting on his COSY to autoresolve (old-ass software they were using. No manches.) He’d actually jumped up and whooped in excitement, which would have been embarrassing if anyone besides Ques was there.

He’d texted Goji and Mothra to see if they wanted to go get something to eat in celebration, but the latter said she had plans and the former rarely had her phone on her and didn’t respond. Anguirus was visiting family, and Rodan wouldn’t stoop to hanging out with Baragon if he was the last guy on Earth. So he clocked out and went down the street to Monster Island Bar alone.

His lab building was only a couple miles from the center of Monsuta, on the other side of it from the beach. He could get everywhere on foot or on his motorbike.

So with an extra spring in his step he’d locked his bike underneath the streetlamp outside the bar and headed in for a drink. He hadn’t had a chance to go out since the incident with his old apartment; between the thrill and razor’s edge of fear watching the old place burn to the slow and excruciating process of getting arrested, thrown in a holding cell for a weekend and then told that he was getting let off, he’d been sort of on edge for the past few weeks.

“Relax, ‘dan,” Goji said when she picked him up from the Correctional Facility, clapping a broad hand on his shoulder. “You got off this time when you could’ve been in jail for the rest of your life. People like us don’t get chances like this. Enjoy it.”

He couldn’t, though. He was still taut as a live wire. How did he slip through the cracks? He’d had a lapse of judgment. The place he’d lived for years was being sold out from under him to some foreign developers who’d rip it up and turn it into luxury condos and price Monsutans out of it with impunity, and damn it, Rodan wasn’t going to let that happen.

Having access to the chemical components of any commonly used explosive substance was definitely a job bonus at his lab. Not like Ques cared enough to keep inventory of anything. She was too busy being bitter and feeling sorry for herself.

So his old place had burned – exploded, actually – and Rodan was caught, of course, because who else, and then someone had decided to let him go.

He knew how things worked around here. Someone did him a favor, and now something was expected of him. He owed someone a debt, someone powerful, and he didn’t like not knowing who it was, or what they might conceivably ask of him.

It just made him jumpy.

So anyways – he’d decided to go out that Friday to loosen up after a very confusing and challenging couple of weeks, throw down a few beers.

He’d got himself the cheapest bottle MI carried, his usual, and nursed it in the middle of the bar as the other patrons trickled in for their usual Friday libations. MI was what Mothra would call ‘homey’; there was pool, if you cared to challenge Battra; the tvs weren’t too loud that you couldn’t hear the 80s music channel; you could sit on the patio if you didn’t mind that the whole place was a wrought-iron tetanus ward waiting to be established. ��When Rodan was alone he mostly liked to drink in silence and futz with the candles at the bar. His new basement apartment was an absolute dustpan and he wasn’t in any hurry to get back there.

The bartender’d tapped him on the shoulder and he’d spun around, thinking that he’d fucked something up, but she handed him a glass of something clear and beautifully garnished instead.

“From the guy at the end of the counter,” she said. “It’s the best we have on shelf.”

He looked, not caring about subtlety. There was a guy at the end of the bar, ensconced in a corner and half in the shadow, leaning against the wall like a shadow himself. He had a phone in his hand, scrolling slowly, and he was looking over at Rodan with a practiced and incredibly precise casualness. Damn, he was good looking. Not his usual type, given, but tall and sharp and sort of weird looking in the face but in a very Fancy Model way. In the warm electric lights Rodan saw his eyes glint.

And he was looking at Rodan. With the slightest smile, an it’s-there-if-you-want-it-to-be smile, looking appraisingly, like he was evaluating Rodan and didn’t find him wanting. He stopped scrolling, clicked off his phone, keeping their eyes locked, and cocked an eyebrow. Are you coming over?

Rodan took a sip. Expensive tequila. So the guy didn’t just have good taste in clothes. The stranger watched him. Rodan licked his lips, tasting salt and mellow cool alcohol, and then brought the glass a half dozen seats over to sit next to the man who bought it for him.

Rodan, in the present, internally curled up and kicked his feet with glee at the memory. He’d picked up plenty of people at bars back in the day, but he was rusty in that department now. Besides, he was used to being the initiator in those relationships. It felt nice to be attended to, and the guy – Kevin, was it? Kyle? – had attended to him in every conceivable way that evening, and then later that night.

He was Scandanavian, here for work, he hadn’t had a chance to visit the famous beach yet but he was looking forward to it, he liked his drinks on the rocks. He had shoulder-length blond hair but he wore it up; his lips were a little too wide for his aristocratic face but that made it interesting enough to look at. He had long, slender fingers and he knew how to use them. He had a tattoo of a dragon on his hip. He spoke Spanish, among other languages, and liked classic metal too.

Rodan, in the present, rolled up to sit. No hangover, thankfully, just tired. He reached under the bed and grabbed an undershirt, pulling it on as he stood up and knocked at the screen. It felt silly, but he didn’t want to intrude if Kevin was still there. God, he hadn’t had a one night stand in a while, this was excrutiating.

“Hey, are you still there?”

A moment. “Your shower doesn’t have a curtain, you know this, yes?”

“Oh, yeah. Haven’t had time to unpack it. Sorry.”

A chuckle. “No, I’m sorry for waking you up so early. My body tells me I’m a morning person, my head doesn’t agree, though.” God, that accent! On the other side of the divider, Rodan found Kevin in his little kitchenette. To his embarrassment, his houseguest was washing his dishes, dressed only in Rodan’s almost knee-length sweatpants and his mother’s laundry apron.

“Oh shit, don’t worry about that! I swore I washed them yesterday, you really don’t have to, dude.”

“Not at all, I made pancakes and thought I should clean up afterwards. As a thanks for letting me stay over!” Kevin smiled brightly at him. God, he should really make sure his name was Kevin.

He looked damn good in just Rodan’s sweats and apron.

“Pancakes?”

“And coffee. Your machine was making noises – I found a press, though.”

“Where? Did you take apart my entire kitchen?”

“Ech, I’ve been up for a while. I didn’t want to leave you without seeing you though. I thought it would be rude.”

“Most people would’ve left a note and dipped. I’m used to it.”

“Well, if you didn’t want to see me, at least now you have pancakes, so it is a net-gain, yes?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Rodan assured him. “It’s nice, I mean. I’m glad you stayed. Just not used to decency, I guess. And thanks for the pancakes.” Kevin dried his hands, finished, and Rodan pulled him against himself by the waistband of his pants. He barely came up to the man’s shoulders.

Rodan looked up and Kevin smiled down at him, then ducked down and gave him a quick, dry kiss that Rodan felt through his whole body like a little sparkly shockwave. His body remembered last night.

Something on the other side of the room buzzed. Rodan smacked his own ass on instinct even though he wasn’t wearing pants with back pockets and Kevin pulled off his apron and scrambled around to the couch, where he’d left his coat the day before.

He fished his iphone out of his pocket and answered it in an unintelligible language. His tone started light and easy but went flat and businesslike as the conversation went on. Rodan helped himself to some pancakes, deciding to eat them rolled up with his fingers and dipped in butter as he listened to the waterlike vowels and slurred consonants from the living room.

Kevin hung up, pursing his lips. “That was my work partner. I have a conference call in a little bit to prepare for, so I’m going to head out.”

“On a Saturday?”

“It’s still Friday over where those partners are.”

“Huh, wow. Your place is really global, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and growing bigger all the time.” He smiled beatifically and gestured to Rodan’s room.

“Yeah. What did you say you did again?” Rodan asked as Kevin pulled on his clothes.

The Scandanavian smiled at him, snapping his brilliant gold hair into a bun. “Oh, it’s all very vague. Financial analytics, insurance. Some international shipping. Real estate.”

His tone was light and pleasant but something in the air between them felt suddenly strange and heavy. They looked at each other over the bar of Rodan’s kitchenette, the scientist and the stranger and the chemistry between them.

Kevin stood up, breaking the moment, and gently took Rodan around the waist. “I put my number on your bedside table,” he said. “I will be here for a few weeks, perhaps; if you’d like to spend some time together, call me. I’d love to.”

Rodan reached up and traced a thumb over his high cheekbones, the corner of his mouth. His washed-out-blue eyes followed, amused, and Rodan pulled him in for another deeper kiss.

“Okay, fine, I guess I can call you,” he said after they broke apart. “But you’ve set the bar pretty high this time. I’m going to expect a continental breakfast.”

“Oh, no, next time we are staying with me, where there are shower curtains,” Kevin said, and kissed Rodan on the top of his mssed-up head. “And I look forward to it.”

Later on, a few miles away, Sander calls his brother back.

“How long does it take to case a place so small?” Richard groans in Danish.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” San says, running his hand over his face where he swore he could still feel Rodan’s thumb. “Besides, he has just moved in, he doesn’t have any useful papers out. I think Ni will have to find them online.”

“Mmh.” That was Niels, on the conference call.

“He’s an interesting one, though. I think he’ll be worth our time.”

“Ech, I don’t care about that, I just care about how much of a problem he’s going to be for us.”

“If the big construction worker won’t keep him in line, then I can keep him busy,” San responds. “I think you’d like him. He’s fun.”

“Nobody fun lives in a ground floor apartment,” Ni again.

And then the line devolved into a discussion of the apartment complex on the street over from the one that Rodan had burnt down and San started the car again, heading back for their penthouse downtown.

He felt good about this city, this project. The last few had left him cold. He wondered if he’d lost his spark for their game - it had felt scarily mechanical. They’d been going through the motions, town after town, breaking down and rebuilding rotely while checking their watches. But this time…

He thought of the little firestarter, his bright dark eyes and his scarred hands, his quick confident tone and the quiet little noises he made. Maybe he’d found his spark again.

#godzilla tag #humankaiju #i hope this sort of makes sense if it doesnt i dont give a hoot though #i just wanted to put something down and disgorge my ideas #but i have SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT HUMANKAIJU RODORAH.......#San gave Rodan a fake name for kicks #so Rodan still thinks his name is Kevin lol #San is like Yes... An American Name........... Kevin #rodans apartment shenanigans (c) Sa

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